


Walk with Me in Hell

by jusrecht



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Choi Siwon is a thirty-three-year-old magnate with a large business empire to rule. Cho Kyuhyun is a sixteen-year-old high school student who has been kicked out of his uncle's house for sleeping with a man twice his age. This is a collage of their lives together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**01\. rulers make bad lovers**

  


  
There are two kinds of powerful men in this world: those who have skeletons in their closets, and those who have their skeletons laid bare in the open.  
  
Choi Siwon belonged to the latter group, which, paradoxically enough, only made him invulnerable. Zhou Mi barely even raised an eyebrow when his boss clinched yet another deal with a pleasantly serene smile that nevertheless silenced every soul at the other side of the bargain table.  
  
The sight was a thoroughly familiar one. To the eyes of an innocent bystander, perhaps it looked like Siwon got what he wanted through sheer charm. Everyone in the room, however, knew for certain that a lot more were involved outside this wood-panelled, luxuriously-furnished chamber—countless schemes, hidden ploys, cunning manoeuvres, and veiled threats, all threading the very beat of South Korea’s business sphere.  
  
And there could be no question as to who had won this round.  
  
Zhou Mi waited until the fuming executives and grumbling lawyers had filed out of the meeting room before he would allow his poker face to break into a grin. “I've watched you do that a hundred times at least, but I simply can't get used to it. Like, how perfectly everything comes together," he snapped his fingers, "just like that.”  
  
“The key is in the planning, my friend,” Siwon replied with a satisfied smile from the head of the table, three seats away. “Just make sure that we have all the exits covered and they'll have no choice but to accept our terms.”  
  
Zhou Mi's grin widened. “A checkmate.”  
  
“A beautifully executed one, if I say so myself,” Siwon agreed, his tone tempered by a complacent edge. “And that's thanks to your hard work too. Remind me to give you something special for Christmas this year.”  
  
“Count on it,” Zhou Mi hummed, already imagining his tall, slender body wrapped in a new, strikingly gorgeous—and obscenely expensive—fur coat. It was a good thing that the price expected would be nothing for his boss. The man belonged to a family who owned one of the largest business empires in Asia, and he was sitting at the top of the chain, with a smile at front and a ruthless hand behind.  
  
All in all, Zhou Mi reflected, he had made a very good decision to work for his old college friend.  
  
“By the way,” he spoke again, “did you hear what Mr Gwang said just before he walked out?”  
  
Siwon raised a speculative eyebrow. “Something unpleasant, I’d imagine.”  
  
“Something about your boy.”  
  
“How crude,” he muttered, lips curling in distaste.  
  
Zhou Mi shrugged. “Not exactly unexpected though, from someone like him.”  
  
Siwon feigned a long-suffering sigh. “You know, it’s actually pretty useful to have one's sin as the worst-kept secret in the country. Since everybody already knows, I don’t have to fear its discovery.”  
  
Zhou Mi couldn’t help but laugh. “I must agree with you on that count,” he acknowledged, rising to his feet. “Well, like they all say, let the dogs bark. We both know who’s dancing on whose corpse.”  
  
“Really, Mi.” The other man didn’t quite manage to stifle a responding grin. “What a terrible thing to say.”  
  
“But true.”  
  
“Unfortunately,” Siwon admitted, his smile gaining a sharper edge.  
  
  
.  
  
  
“I didn’t know you’re home.”  
  
Siwon looked up to find Kyuhyun frowning at him from his bedroom’s doorway. The boy was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and shorts, his standard sleeping wardrobe—a fact which Siwon could not help but be made aware of after two months of living under the same roof.  
  
The older man shrugged and returned his attention back to his tablet. “You sounded busy,” was his only reply. Coming home to the sound of the younger cursing six ways to Sunday was hardly uncommon for him nowadays. Like many of his age, Kyuhyun’s attachment toward online games was bordering on addiction. Siwon couldn’t say that he cared much, however, as long as the noise didn’t reach his bedroom.  
  
“I was.” Kyuhyun invited himself in and climbed into the bed, stopping only after he had comfortably straddled Siwon’s legs. “Some moron challenged me. Of course I had to show him his place.”  
  
“I thought this was exam week.”  
  
“Yes, but I’ll ace them anyway,” Kyuhyun answered with a careless tilt of the head, the very image unexpected from a scholarship student. “You’ve been neglecting me.”  
  
Siwon smiled apologetically. “I’ve been busy.”  
  
“And didn’t even bother to tell me.”  
  
“Like I said, I’ve been busy.”  
  
Kyuhyun snorted. “Fine,” he muttered, face pulled into a scowl, and started to move away. All it took was a well-placed hand and a tug, with just enough force to turn the events to his favour, and Siwon hid a smile as the boy fell into his arms.  
  
“But now I’m not.”  
  
The wicked smirk that graced Kyuhyun's lips had become a disturbingly familiar sight by now. “That's too bad, because I'm the one who's busy tonight. Exam week, remember?”  
  
“Like you said, you'll ace them anyway.”  
  
“It's history,” he pointed out, eyes blinking innocently. “I have at least two hundred pages of names and dates to memorise.”  
  
“I heard that pheromone could help you concentrate better.”  
  
Kyuhyun laughed. “Bullshit. You just want to fuck me.”  
  
“Yes,” Siwon admitted all too readily, his voice falling into a whisper, caressing the boy's ear. “I want to fuck you.”  
  
Kyuhyun's smile held all the sweetness of the devil's triumphant grin. Siwon tightened his grip and captured those mocking lips. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kyuhyun turned out to be the devil himself—for it always felt like this, always this same sort of madness, consuming him, burning his calm, collected temperament to ash and leaving him an easy prey to lust and greed. And then all he wanted to do was claim, claim, claim, marking the generous length of pale neck bared for his teeth and drinking the breathless, moaning voice as it ascended to the ceiling.  
  
And then there was the fucking too. For although Siwon always had beauty at the very tips of his fingers—any choice of pretty girls, attractive women, and of course handsome young men—Fate had dropped this boy into his lap. And although he liked to think that letting Kyuhyun live with him was for the sake of his guilty conscience, for depriving the boy of his home, the truth was nowhere nearly as noble.  
  
Not when every touch, every thrust into Kyuhyun's tight, welcoming heat was another sinking step into total abandon; not when he spread those soft, white thighs even wider and fucked Kyuhyun deeper only to hear his moans; and certainly not when Kyuhyun suddenly pulled him close, nails clawing into his back and Siwon's name a desperate prayer on slick, parted lips.  
  
Because during those moments, Siwon realised that there was no one else in the world he wanted more.  
  
“Come for me,” he commanded.  
  
And Kyuhyun did.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
---


	2. Chapter 2

**02\. save the nighttime for your weeping**

  
Contrary to popular belief, Cho Kyuhyun was not a genius.  
  
He was gifted with a plenty of intelligence, that much was true, but to be a genius required a number of qualifications he did not have, namely the ability to get the most mind-boggling, envy-evoking marks without even trying. He knew that he worked hard, because the thing about being orphaned from an early age was that you had no parents who would love you unconditionally, and so you quickly learned to seize every opportunity in order to survive in life—by whatever means necessary. His uncle and aunt had cared enough to take him in, but they had three children of their own and Kyuhyun knew that his earning a scholarship meant one less frown directed at him.  
  
Except of course it wasn’t enough to atone for his ‘sin’ of being gay and sleeping with Choi bloody Siwon, the richest and most scandal-riddled bachelor in the country.  
  
Not that it mattered now. With a frown, Kyuhyun pushed the thought out of the tangle of his mind. The class was quiet. Their Biology teacher was droning, as always, and half of the class was either asleep or on their merry way to sleepdom. Sighing, Kyuhyun picked up his pen and was about to copy a sketch of amphibian's respiratory system from the blackboard when his cell phone buzzed.  
  
It was a message from Changmin.  
  
 _somebody’s looking at you_  
  
Kyuhyun felt a smirk tickling the curve of his lips. The subject was familiar enough, but Changmin must have been bored out of his mind to bother sending a text that did not have anything to do with him—and was hopelessly trivial to boot.  
  
 _What can I say? Everyone wants a piece of me._  
  
He could easily imagine his best friend rolling his eyes at the reply. The next message arrived barely ten seconds later.  
  
 _i think this one wants a specific piece. he keeps looking at it_  
  
This time, Kyuhyun had to suppress a snort. He knew precisely which part of his body that Changmin was talking about.  
  
 _I don’t mind. It’s big enough for sharing._  
  
There was a sort of choking sound coming from the back of the class. Kyuhyun hid a wince when their teacher, a stern-faced, middle-aged man, turned around sharply. The frown he was wearing promised a long, painful torture of such unholy proportion that every student was left cowering in her or his seat.  
  
Predictably enough, the rest of the period was spent on a lengthy lecture on discipline and the value of respect, followed by a session of brutal, ruthless public humiliation in front of the class for anyone who could not answer at least three of the teacher's questions. (Kyuhyun was thankful that he was spared the latter, despite the glare he received from the majority of the class.)  
  
“You,” Changmin cornered him at his table once school had ended, “are evil. You always have been, but lately you're just so much worse. He’s corrupted you.”  
  
Kyuhyun looked up and smiled sweetly at his best friend. “Jealous?”  
  
The look Changmin was giving him could best be described as full of pity. “I hate to burst your bubble, Cho, but you're not that hot. Your sugar daddy is just bewitched—or shortsighted. Maybe even delusional.”  
  
“He's not my sugar daddy,” Kyuhyun shot back with a scowl.  
  
Changmin grinned. “Sure, just a really generous man who has taken a fancy to you. Lucky boy.”  
  
“Ooh, is that jealousy I hear?”  
  
“You wish,” Changmin muttered, rolling his eyes. “Your secret admirer is still looking at you, by the way.”  
  
Kyuhyun looked past his friend and easily spotted a quiet boy with a pretty face who had been not-too-surreptitiously stealing glances at them. It was the new transfer student, too shy even to hold any prolonged eye contact with him when their gazes inevitably met.  
  
Kyuhyun shrugged, uninterested, and returned his attention to Changmin.  
  
“Too bad he's not my type.”  
  
“Yeah, we both know what your type is. Super rich older men who can dominate you like–”  
  
Kyuhyun almost managed to kick Changmin’s legs from under him, but missed by a scant inch. “I can kiss you to make you shut up, you know.”  
  
“And give pretty boy a show? Really, man, kinky is one thing, but exhibitionism–”  
  
That was when he pulled Changmin’s tie and kissed him firmly on the mouth. It must have been completely unexpected, if the lack of retaliation from the taller boy were anything to go by. Kyuhyun couldn't help but grin. A victory like this was rare; they knew each other too well to score one too often, which made him revel in this moment even more—and then press their lips together even harder, just for the sake of it.  
  
Everything and everyone around them had fallen silent. This was the first thing Kyuhyun noticed when they parted, and he was only too aware of the many pairs of eyes watching the way he slowly licked his lips.  
  
“Told you.”  
  
It took Changmin three seconds longer than usual to respond. “Congratulations, now he’ll think you’re an easy whore,” he stated, pointedly glancing at Kyuhyun's so-called secret admirer who was now gaping at them—as was the rest of the students. “Actually, _everyone_ will think that you're an easy whore.”  
  
Kyuhyun shrugged and allowed a lazy smirk to stretch over his lips. “They already know that I’m Choi Siwon’s boy toy. ‘An easy whore’ is just another name for it, don't you think?”  
  
There was a pause, during which a fierce scowl slowly made its presence known on Changmin's face. “I don't like it when you’re talking like that.”  
  
Kyuhyun was taken aback by his friend's tone, but whatever response lurking under his tongue was interrupted by a female voice coming from the intercom, calling a certain Cho Kyuhyun to the headmaster's office.  
  
A thicker silence followed the summon. Kyuhyun suddenly felt nauseous. He had been dreading this moment for weeks—pretending that he didn't care, and yet living with a gnawing fear festering under his skin every second of every day. He had very few things left; the right to be in this school, being a scholarship student, was one of those few.  
  
Now that the time of judgment had come, he realised that he was scared beyond his wits at the thought of losing it.  
  
When he looked up, he met Changmin's gaze and they shared a long look. With or without word, Kyuhyun knew that his best friend could read pretty much every thought running riot in his head.  
  
“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” It was Changmin who broke their silence first.  
  
“We knew they'd find out sooner or later,” Kyuhyun muttered, shoving his books and other belongings into his bag. The rest of the class, he couldn't help but notice, were now studiously avoiding his eyes, pretending to be immersed in their own business.  
  
“I’ll wait for you.”  
  
Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “What am I, your girlfriend or something?”  
  
“My best friend.”  
  
The note of sincerity in Changmin's voice nearly broke him, but Kyuhyun was quick enough to cover his reaction with a tiny smile. “And you're the epitome of everything sweet and caring, Shim Changmin, but seriously.” He rose to his feet and patted the taller boy's cheek. “I'll be fine. Anyway you have piano on Thursdays, right?”  
  
“Ugh, fine, you win this time,” Changmin relented with a sigh. “How is it that you know my schedule better than I do anyway?”  
  
Kyuhyun smiled sweetly at him. “Some of us actually use our brains to memorise things.”  
  
”Yeah, just keep insulting me. I seriously don't know why I'm still friends with you.”  
  
”At least we have that in common,” Kyuhyun murmured, and quickly escaped from the classroom before Changmin could rebuke him again for saying such things.  
  
  
-  
  
  
The penthouse was still brightly lit when he opened the door. Kyuhyun bit his lips and carefully tiptoed in. It was five minutes to midnight. He was dead tired and the last thing he needed right now was to be confronted by Siwon and be subjected to a long, probing interrogation which he really could live without. (Besides, there was still the problem of coming up with a plausible lie and he didn't think that his brain could render its usual quality service in the state it was in.)  
  
“Where have you been?”  
  
Kyuhyun cursed his atrocious luck, but he really shouldn't be surprised. There was no reason why the powers that be would take pity on him now, after screwing him in every possible way for the better part of the day. He glared at Siwon, who was sitting in the couch in front of the television set, a notebook on his lap.  
  
“None of your business,” he muttered and continued toward his bedroom, fully intent on brushing the older man off.  
  
What he did not take into account was the possibility that a hand would seize his lower arm and hold it in an iron grip.  
  
“Then make it mine.”  
  
Kyuhyun scowled, both from the order and the pressure on his arm. “You don't get to make that kind of demand from me.”  
  
“Oh, I don't?”  
  
A train of curses had almost made it to the tip of his tongue, but Kyuhyun noticed, just in time, that Siwon's eyes had gone a shade colder. It was enough to remind him about his precarious position, and so he gritted his teeth and swallowed the first licks of anger back down his throat.  
  
“I just went out with friends, alright? Or can't I even do that now?”  
  
Siwon slowly rose to his feet, eyes still nailing Kyuhyun to the spot. His fingers tightened their grip when he spoke again. “You have the talent, but your lying method still needs some polishing. Care to try again?”  
  
“Fuck you,” Kyuhyun hissed and tried to wrench himself free once again, to no better result. They spent the next minute glaring at each other, until Siwon finally backed down first and let his arm go.  
  
“Fine,” he said, his voice flat. “None of my business it is.”  
  
It was such a little thing—Siwon’s turning away and picking up his notebook from the couch—but Kyuhyun could almost feel his heart stop, fear bursting inside his chest like cold fireworks. Siwon would leave; Siwon wouldn't care anymore, and the thought brought his world into a halt. It felt like he had suddenly lost his footing, the floor opening up, ready to swallow him whole, and there was no one who cared because he was alone.  
  
“They cancelled my scholarship,” he heard the words leave his mouth before he could even taste their presence.  
  
Siwon glanced back at him, surprise for once palpable in his expression. “The school?”  
  
“Who else? The aliens?” Kyuhyun retorted, frustration sharpening his tone. “They found out that I wasn’t living with my uncle anymore. They tried to contact him, but I guess he didn’t want anything to do with a nephew who’s not only gay but also a whore. Bad influence for his sons maybe. I could've taught them how to suck cocks.”  
  
Siwon frowned, but ignored the last part of his tirade. “What does it have to do with your scholarship?”  
  
“I’m living with you!” Kyuhyun was close to shouting now. It felt like everything the world had thrown to his face in the last twelve hours had come crashing down on him all at once. “They're not stupid! Why else would someone like you take in someone like me? Of course they could put two and two together! Even an idiot could!”  
  
He paused, chin held up high in a challenge, but the older man said nothing. “So yeah, they decided that their scholarship program was wasted on a shameless whore like me. Not that I give a damn. I’ll just find myself a job or something. I don’t fucking need them.”  
  
“You’re sixteen,” Siwon pointed out, still frowning.  
  
“So what?”  
  
“It's not as easy as you think.”  
  
“Sure, because you worked your ass off at sixteen, didn't you?” Kyuhyun shot back with a snort. Siwon was a Choi; even a kid like him knew what it meant—knew into what kind of outrageous privilege and silver-spooned world the man was born into. The terror of not having a place to live, a roof above his head and the money to pay for it, could not possibly enter his horizon.  
  
If Siwon were at all offended by his words, then his face showed none of it. “Do you want to work at sixteen?” he asked instead.  
  
“What kind of question is that?” Kyuhyun hissed angrily. “I don’t have any other choice, do I?”  
  
“You can choose to get out of this place.”  
  
One sentence was all it took to make his entire body go cold—and it was all Siwon needed to take away every comfort he still had. Kyuhyun stared back at him, helpless, scared, knowing perfectly well that he looked as helpless and scared as he felt. He knew that he depended on Siwon. What he didn’t know was that he depended _this much_ on Siwon.  
  
“Or you can stay and ignore them,” the older man continued, as if he hadn't noticed Kyuhyun's expression. “It’s your life; you’re in charge, not them.”  
  
“But what other people–”  
  
“Fuck other people.”  
  
Kyuhyun gaped, torn between punching Siwon's expressionless face and laughing hysterically. The latter won, and then he simply couldn’t help but add, “That's your advice? _Fuck other people?_ Sure. Not that it’s a bad one. After all, if I can get some money by whoring myself out–”  
  
“Be quiet and listen,” Siwon said sternly, clearly unamused by his poor attempt at sarcasm. “Keep going to school. I’ll pay for your tuition, but you have to show them that you’re still on the scholarship level even if they take that from you. You’re smart, and that they cannot take away no matter what they do.”  
  
“It’s no use,” Kyuhyun bit back, hearing how badly his voice shook and hating himself for that weakness. “They’ll kick me out anyway if they find out that I'm still living with you. Not that I have to.” He swallowed and looked down. “I mean, this is your house and of course there’s no reason why you should–”  
  
A hand tilted his chin and forced him to meet the older man’s gaze. “Do you want to leave?” Siwon asked him, sounding completely matter-of-fact.  
  
Kyuhyun had to stop himself from screaming at the older man. As if their positions weren't clear enough—and now Siwon had to force him to bend his head even lower and answer that question.  
  
“No,” he finally managed to push the word past his clenched teeth.  
  
“Then stay,” Siwon told him, his tone falling a shade softer. “And don't worry about getting expelled. I’ll take care of it.”  
  
All Kyuhyun could think of was it sounded too good to be true. “What do you want in return?” he asked bluntly, trying not to hate Siwon for his extent of power—and such offhand use of it.  
  
Siwon raised his eyebrows. “What do you have in mind?” he returned, sounding almost amused.  
  
It was obvious that Siwon was toying with him. Kyuhyun felt the sharp sting of humiliation under his skin, and it made him angry enough to want revenge, _angry_ enough to curl his fingers around Siwon’s wrist and push him toward the couch. The man did not resist, his fall into leather embrace as graceful as everything else he did. Kyuhyun’s was not nearly as picturesque, but he plastered a smirk on his face, hands warm on Siwon’s thighs, and slid down until his knees touched lush carpet.  
  
He only stopped because Siwon’s fingers slipped into his hair and grasped a handful, hard.  
  
“If I wanted a whore, I would find one in the streets.”  
  
Kyuhyun would have snarled at him for the insult, but shame and anger burned too thickly in his chest, turning the words into one congealed mess. It already took all his willpower to keep himself still and not strike this smug bastard, and the rest was spent on clinging to his sense of self-preservation. He might have made a grand speech about finding a job and fending for his own, but the truth, Kyuhyun knew, was that he was terrified. It was cold out there, and it was warm and safe in here—and as long as he obeyed Siwon's every order, he wouldn't be asked to leave.  
  
Maybe.  
  
“Forgive me,” Siwon suddenly spoke again, softly this time, and the grip of his hand turned into a caress. “That was unkind.”  
  
Kyuhyun could have spat at this apology but did not. It might be sincere, or the older man could simply be fucking with his head—but there was simply no way to know and so he pressed his face against the side of Siwon’s knee and willed his tears not to fall. The chain was invisible, but it was there, around him, pulling tighter and tighter, and he tried not to think about pride or dignity as Siwon’s fingers gently ran through his hair.  
  
He had no right. Those lofty ideals were not fit for a whore who had sold everything in order to survive.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Siwon repeated.  
  
Kyuhyun’s only answer was to cling even tighter to Siwon’s pants.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	3. Chapter 3

**03\. this same rain that draws you near me**

  
There were several reasons why Choi Siwon avoided committed relationships at all cost and this was but one of them.  
  
By all manners of definition, what he had with the boy could not exactly be called a 'relationship'; but there was commitment in it, and it was the word which left Siwon standing with a frown in front of Kyuhyun's bedroom on a particular Saturday night. He had just returned from one of many social functions which cluttered his schedule like files and folders would his desk on a particularly hectic day. His plan for the rest of the night consisted of a good book with a bottle of wine and a bit of jazz to help him unwind.  
  
Or at least that _had_ been his plan before Zhou Mi called on the way home and reminded him, among others, about his next business trip to Tokyo. Ever since, a thought had nestled in his mind and refused to sink into oblivion until it was turned into a concrete action.  
  
Siwon sighed. He hated this part of personal relationships; the efforts needed to nurture and maintain them were simply too troublesome for him. It was why his dates and occasional lays rarely ever lasted more than one night. This one would have met the same fate, except Kyuhyun had suddenly found himself without a home and Siwon was perfectly aware that a large portion of the blame was rightly laid on his door. And he was never one to shrink from responsibility.  
  
The decision to let Kyuhyun live _with_ him, however, had been taken on the spur of the moment. It was so unlike him that even now, Siwon still marvelled at—and often regretted—his extraordinary impulse. When it came to matters of the intimate kind, he liked things to be short-lived. Something beautifully ephemeral and pleasantly transitory suited him much better than a prolonged union with no egress in sight. A fleeting romance would soon fade into golden wisps of what-once-was, and these, with time, would slowly coalesce into a beautiful sketch of memory enshrined in the book of his past, easily tucked away and forgotten when he had no need of it.  
  
There would be no lasting attachment, and therefore no lasting burden. Which might just be as well since it was only too clear that they all wanted the so-called relationship with him mainly for his money.  
  
Ironically enough, the one he had decided to keep in the end was the most obviously mercenary of them all. His abundance of fine attributes notwithstanding, Siwon was not arrogant enough to think that Kyuhyun could possibly harbour some kind of affection toward him. The boy had absolutely no use of him except for his wealth and protection. Siwon knew this, and yet he allowed it to happen all the same.  
  
And next Tuesday would mark the sixteen-week anniversary of their arrangement.  
  
The sudden realisation was disturbing enough that Siwon almost turned around and fled to seek refuge in the safe familiarity of his bedroom. Only a sound coming from behind Kyuhyun’s half-closed door stopped the progress of his retreat.  
  
He halted—surprised, curious, entranced. It was the soft humming of a voice, lightly tracing the rise and fall of a familiar tune. He recognised it as a ballad song from a popular singer Zhou Mi often listened to. That Kyuhyun should have known the same song was not surprising; it was the fact that he was _singing_ which captured Siwon's attention.  
  
And then the voice rose. He stepped closer, caught in silent wonder as the faint notes and indistinct hums bloomed into perfectly rounded words, carried afloat by a beautiful tenor. Kyuhyun's voice had always been one of the qualities he found attractive in the boy, but this was different. This _sounded_ different. There was roughness still, along with a decided lack of pitch control and a distinct style, and yet it arrested him like no other voice had, and Siwon found himself pushing the door open a little wider.  
  
The sight which greeted his eyes was enough to make him stop for the second time.  
  
Kyuhyun was standing in the middle of the room, eyes closed in complete rapture, emotions a whirlwind across his face as he sang to the song coming from the earphones stuck in his ears. His arms were spread, as if he was standing on a stage in front of his adoring fans—and _that_ was what he was doing, Siwon realised all of a sudden. Pretending that he was singing on stage.  
  
But the realisation came too late. Kyuhyun's eyes flew open after a particularly ambitious (and unfortunately not particularly successful) attempt at a high note. The burst of shock, anger, and painful mortification blighting his face at the sight of _him_ further convinced Siwon that this was something he should not have witnessed.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Kyuhyun demanded sharply, tearing his earphones off with one angry yank.  
  
“The door was open,” Siwon explained, the unfamiliar nip of guilt and discomfort slinking into his heart.  
  
“So you just decided to walk in?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Kyuhyun opened his mouth, clearly on the verge of delivering a biting retort when something very much like fear dawned on his face. Siwon could easily guess the thoughts shifting in Kyuhyun's head—how he calculated the variables of this particular situation against the parameters of their 'relationship', and in the end decided to favour safety above any desire to punch back.  
  
“I didn't mean–”  
  
“It's alright,” Siwon interrupted him abruptly. For reasons he had yet to identify, he despised every word of apology coming from Kyuhyun's mouth. “I’ve never heard you sing before,” he added after a pause, determined to change the subject. “You have a wonderful voice.”  
  
It was interesting to note how the little compliment made the boy blush like nothing else ever could. “I thought you’d come home later than this,” he mumbled, looking away.  
  
“I’m not in the mood for parties. And to be honest, listening to you sing is much more interesting.”  
  
The colour deepened in Kyuhyun’s cheek and Siwon didn’t miss the glare thrown at his direction. “Fine, just make fun of me.”  
  
“No, really.” He couldn’t help but smile at the childish tone and pout. Siwon would freely admit that he liked it when the boy talked back at him. For the past two weeks, Kyuhyun had been rather reserved, more subdued and careful somehow in both his words and actions. Not surprising, perhaps, considering what had happened with the scholarship and all, but Siwon honestly found this change more than a little disagreeable.  
  
Which was yet another reason why he shouldn’t have attempted to cultivate any sort of extended relationship above the friendship level.  
  
“Yes, really. You’re even _smiling_ now, in case you haven't noticed,” Kyuhyun pointed out with another glare.  
  
“Only because I think you can be a singer with a voice like that.”  
  
Kyuhyun scoffed and rolled his eyes, but Siwon had not gone so far and high in the world without the necessary skills of reading people in one glance and perceiving what lay beneath the crude masks they stubbornly wore. The tension which had suddenly gripped the boy’s posture was telling enough—the idea was far from a stranger to his mind. In fact, Siwon suspected, it must have been a frequent, persistent visitor.  
  
“Would you sing me a song?”  
  
Kyuhyun made a face at him. “No. You’ll just make fun of me again.”  
  
“I promise I won’t.”  
  
“I don’t believe you.”  
  
“If I crack even one smile, you’ll get to ask anything from me.”  
  
That, at least, caught Kyuhyun’s attention. Siwon could see the ongoing battle waged by his tempting offer inside Kyuhyun’s head and had to wonder what the boy would actually ask if he won the bet.  
  
It almost made him want to lose on purpose.  
  
“Alright,” Kyuhyun finally said, sounding like he thoroughly hated himself for giving in. “I'll make you regret it when I win.”  
  
“I have absolutely no intention to lose either,” Siwon returned solemnly, if not entirely truthfully.  
  
Kyuhyun shot him one final glare and then took a deep breath, face set with determination. Crossing his arms, Siwon leaned against the doorframe and schooled his expression into a neutral one, prepared to listen.  
  
The moment Kyuhyun opened his mouth, he knew at once that this would be a joke.  
  
Siwon felt a tinge of annoyance—and no little disappointment—stirring in his chest. He didn't recognise the song, but the provocative lyrics and Kyuhyun’s breathy, sensual voice chased away any lingering doubt as to what the objective of this little performance was. The boy wanted to win; it was the reason why he put on this charade, lashes lowered and a half smirk twisting his mouth as he walked slowly toward him, the song spilling from his lips in a series of sounds more suited for the bedroom than the stage. He only ceased his advance when he had his front a scant millimetre away from Siwon's. His eyes were dark, the colour heavy with promise, but his fingers were not quite steady as he guided them in a climb up Siwon’s dress shirt, past the unravelled bowtie, to lace behind his neck.  
  
Then he stopped.  
  
Siwon waited, perfectly aware of the frown creasing his brow and yet curious enough to stay still. The old Kyuhyun would have proceeded to kiss him, or at least tempt him with wicked smiles and sultry whispers and take one hell of an advantage out of their proximity. The old Kyuhyun, however, was still a scholarship student and wouldn't care much if he was walking a tightrope, as long as there was still a net to catch him underneath.  
  
And the old Kyuhyun was no longer here. No sooner that the boy's hands had settled behind his neck, they let go again, sliding down past Siwon's shoulders back to his sides. Kyuhyun took one step back, expression closed, a short, self-conscious, and utterly mirthless laugh escaping his lips.  
  
“Fine, you win this time,” he said, eyes looking anywhere but at the older man.  
  
Siwon could feel his frown deepen. “You haven't even begun yet,” he stated, catching the boy's arm before he could run away.  
  
Kyuhyun's eyes narrowed as his tone sharpened. “I’ve lost, okay? The game's over. Now let me go.”  
  
Siwon took no heed of the demand and stepped closer instead. “Do you want to be a singer?” he asked point-blank.  
  
“Don't be ridiculous,” Kyuhyun hissed, something resembling panic rising in his eyes.  
  
“Because I think you do.”  
  
“You don't know–”  
  
“Anything about you, true, but I don't have to _know_ to see something so obvious. You want to be a singer. You want to stand on a stage and capture the hearts of your audience with your voice. You want to sing, period. In fact, you want it so, _so_ badly you couldn't even look me in the eye when you tried to cheapen your dreams like what you did earlier.”  
  
The sudden film of tears glazing over Kyuhyun’s eyes was an answer enough. “Yes,” the boy whispered, hand clutching at his chest as if in pain.  
  
Siwon tightened his grip. “Then do better than this. You _can_ do better than this.”  
  
“I’m scared.”  
  
The painful honesty locked in those two little words made Siwon’s breath catch. He didn't understand the feeling of wanting something— _anything_ —that much, so much that fear ruled every breath and shadowed every turn. Kyuhyun wore this dream almost like shame, because it was something so distant, so impossible and unattainable, and yet he wanted it so much, like a boy yearning to touch the stars.  
  
“Try again,” Siwon broke their silence.  
  
Kyuhyun’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What– singing? No, I can’t.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“You know why.”  
  
“I’m afraid not.”  
  
A new hint of redness trickled into Kyuhyun’s cheeks. “How do you expect me to sing after you’ve just made me—not that I cried or anything—but my voice–”  
  
And so Siwon decided to kiss him. It seemed to be the wisest thing to do, with Kyuhyun looking like he was seconds away from either strangling him or bursting from embarrassment. The muffled protest died into shocked silence and Siwon took the opportunity to pull him closer and deepen the kiss.  
  
What he did not expect was the surge of triumph filling up his chest when the boy went from tense to warm and pliant in his arms. Not even scoring one of his phenomenal and tremendously lucrative business deals made him feel like this. (It was certainly a thought worthy of a lengthy perusal later tonight.)  
  
Kyuhyun still looked slightly murderous when they broke apart. “If you think you can change my mind with a kiss…”  
  
“Of course not,” Siwon replied calmly, one of his hands still leisurely stroking Kyuhyun's back. “I don’t think a song from you can be so cheaply bought. My offer is this: instead of one, you’ll get to ask _two_ things from me.”  
  
“There’s no way in hell–”  
  
“Three, then.”  
  
Kyuhyun sputtered into silence. A range of conflicting emotions flitted across his face before greed defeated all else and reigned supreme.  
  
“I really hate you sometimes.”  
  
“Three it is,” Siwon sealed the deal with a smile.  
  
Kyuhyun huffed and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. A few seconds passed in silence, and then he began once more. His voice was deeper this time, but softer and sweeter somehow. Less pretentious, flaunting less trappings—merely a naked voice flowing from the heart. The faults were still there, but if Siwon had ever been in love before, he might have recognised the symptoms when those faults failed to reduce his admiration even by a fraction.  
  
“I was right, you know,” he said when Kyuhyun had finished, fading echoes of the song still caressing his ears. “You really can be a singer with a voice like that.”  
  
This time, it was purely pleasure which brought colour to Kyuhyun's cheeks.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	4. Chapter 4

**04\. where blueberry pancakes meet caramel macchiato**

  
There was something positively heavenly about having blueberry pancakes for breakfast.  
  
Kyuhyun leaned back in pure satisfaction as he chewed on his last bite, savouring every fluffy sweetness and sour tang. From across the table, Siwon was watching him with mild interest and no little amount of amusement.  
  
“Feel free to order another one if you want,” he offered.  
  
“No, thanks, I'm already full,” Kyuhyun declined with an almost regretful sigh, and then gave Siwon's half-full plate of fresh fruits a look of barely concealed disgust. “Unlike you, I imagine.”  
  
“You know this is what I eat every morning.”  
  
“They're _fruits_ ,” Kyuhyun stated, unable to suppress a shudder. “Who the hell eats fruits— _only_ fruits—for breakfast?”  
  
“Thirty-three-year-old men with hard-earned, well-built figures to maintain,” Siwon replied with a long-suffering air. “Just be thankful that you're still sixteen.”  
  
 _Seventeen_ , Kyuhyun almost said, but caught his tongue just in time. He only grinned instead and sipped his caramel macchiato in blissful silence.  
  
The breakfast place was full on that Sunday morning. Kyuhyun looked around the pleasant, high-ceilinged room with interest, knowing very well that the exorbitant price displayed in the menu covered not only the delicious food and excellent service, but also the warm, inviting décor of the place. Pale winter sunlight streamed in through many glass windows framed by cheerful light-yellow curtains. A low hum of chatters filled the room as bits of conversations were shared between hearty bites and dainty sips. White-uniformed waiters and waitresses made their ways deftly but quietly among the guests, trained to flit in and out of notice without much fuss. From where he sat, everything seemed picture perfect, like a heart-warming scene from a Sunday movie.  
  
That was until his eyes caught the sight of a middle-aged, rich-looking couple sitting two tables away who had been throwing furtive glances at his direction. Not far from them was a table of four women who were busily talking among themselves in low whispers, behind their manicured hands, and Kyuhyun only needed one look at their faces to know that they _knew._  
  
He could feel the agonising burn of shame in his chest, quick to climb to his face and made him look down at his white-knuckled fingers. Those looks never failed to make him feel awful. He should’ve insisted that they spent the day at home; it wasn’t all that special of a day anyway.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Kyuhyun almost started at the sudden touch on his chin. He looked up and found Siwon leaning across the table, his expression firm.  
  
“Don’t pay attention to them. They don’t know anything about you.”  
  
 _Obviously they know enough,_ Kyuhyun wanted to retort, but Siwon’s thumb shifted to caress the corner of his lips—and the gesture was so gentle and affectionate that it stirred a ripple of warmth somewhere inside him. A little smile involuntarily bloomed on his face and he found himself nodding despite his silence.  
  
One of the things which impressed Kyuhyun the most about Siwon was the fact that the man did not treat him like a shameful secret. Coming here for breakfast had been his idea, and even in public, in front of so many people from his own class, Siwon’s attitude toward him did not change in the slightest. Kyuhyun was certain that at least half of the guests knew who they were—not to mention the army of dedicated servers attending to their needs, all of whom were constantly and respectfully referring to Siwon as 'Mr Choi'.  
  
 _Yes, Mr Choi. Of course, Mr Choi. Is there anything else, Mr Choi? Very well, Mr Choi._  
  
Kyuhyun would probably have resorted to murder (or at least something very drastic) if _he_ had to hear his own name so many times in the span of half an hour. Siwon, however, looked far from bothered if not completely unaffected—or maybe he was just too used to that sort of abuse to his name.  
  
“How do you feel about a trip to Tokyo?” the older man suddenly asked. The question was so unexpected and entirely without rhyme or reason that Kyuhyun had to stare at him for a few seconds.  
  
“Tokyo?” he repeated uncertainly.  
  
“Yes. I have to be there on the 28th for business and I'll probably stay there for a few days,” Siwon explained, tapping a finger on the saucer of his cup. “I meant to ask you last week, but you surprised me with that impromptu performance.”  
  
Kyuhyun knew that he had turned into a deep shade of red. “You'll never let me live it down, will you?  
  
“Not for a while, no,” Siwon answered mildly, complete with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.  
  
“Whatever. Hmph.”  
  
“So what do you say?”  
  
The obvious answer was yes—and Kyuhyun wanted very much to say yes. For one, he had never left South Korea; simply the prospect of seeing another country already brought him to a state of giddy excitement that he could hardly sit still. And then there was his weakness for Japanese games and comics, which only plied more reasons as to why he really shouldn't pass this chance. For all he knew, it might never come again.  
  
“I’d love to go, but,” he swallowed, steeling himself, and took the plunge, “why would you take me?”  
  
Siwon raised an eyebrow. “Like I said, I thought you'd be interested. And the new semester won’t start until next month, right?”  
  
“No, I mean,” Kyuhyun paused, and carefully met Siwon's gaze, “why would _you_ take _me_?”  
  
As soon as comprehension sank, a frown settled across Siwon’s brow. “Does it matter?”  
  
“I suppose not,” Kyuhyun mumbled, looking at his fidgeting hands. “I just don't want to be a bother since it's a business trip and all.”  
  
“On the contrary, those trips are usually so mind-numbingly dull,” Siwon replied dryly. “You won’t be a bother, so don’t worry about that.”  
  
A spark of hope lit up inside him. “And you want me to come with you?”  
  
“Only if you want to.”  
  
Kyuhyun could feel a pleased smile making its quiet way to his lips. “Alright then.”  
  
“Excellent.” Siwon nodded, looking rather pleased himself. “I'll have Zhou Mi prepare everything for you. And one more thing.”  
  
He reached across the table and put a small, thin box next to the bread basket. Kyuhyun stared at it, dumbfounded.  
  
“Open it,” the older man told him.  
  
Kyuhyun obeyed. Inside the box was a card—a business card, sitting askew on a bed of black velvet. It took him a long moment to make sense of the words neatly printed in the middle of the white space—and then another moment, twice even longer, to make sure that he could believe his eyes.  
 __

  
Yoo Young-jin  
Vocal Instructor  


  


  
And then came another moment, in which Kyuhyun was sure that he had stopped breathing entirely.  
  
“From what I understand, he is one of the best,” Siwon spoke again, sounding perfectly casual, as if he hadn't just given Kyuhyun one of his life's greatest wishes. “He has his business number listed there at the bottom of the card. Give him a call tomorrow and arrange for a meeting. He wants to see you first—maybe to give you a test or two—but if he agrees to take you, then you'll be able to learn from one of the best. Look at me.”  
  
Still unable to speak, Kyuhyun looked up slowly, finding Siwon's eyes on him. “You said that you were scared,” the older man continued, leaning forward, his voice falling a shade lower and softer. “And you should be. It isn’t an easy world you want to be in. But with that kind of voice, you definitely have a chance. Learn, practice, work hard, and once you’ve felt confident enough, join one of those singing contests. Let the world hear your voice and give them no choice but to fall in love with you.”  
  
The sudden warmth that bled in his eyes caught him off guard. Kyuhyun blinked furiously to force the tears back, painfully aware that he was still in public. Humiliating himself by bursting into tears was the last thing he needed right now.  
  
“You don’t have to do this,” he managed to speak after a long pause, trying not to wince at how weak and close to crying he still sounded.  
  
“True,” Siwon smiled, his eyes gentle, “but I want to.”  
  
Kyuhyun had to look away before the tightness in his chest could burst and undo all his efforts. His fingers curled around the box, holding tight like it was the most precious treasure in the world for him.  
  
Which it was.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“Well, everyone deserves a gift on their birthday, right?”  
  
Kyuhyun whipped his head up so fast it made him feel dizzy for a moment. “How did you…” he faltered, gaping at the older man.  
  
“I have my ways,” was Siwon’s nonchalant answer, although the brightness in his eyes was unmistakable. “Happy birthday, Kyuhyun.”  
  
And there was that tightness again. Kyuhyun bit his tongue and dug his nails into the back of his hand, all to distract him from the lump in his throat. There were too many things he wanted to say that in the end he couldn’t even say any of them and chose to stare at his birthday gift in silence.  
  
“Let’s go,” Siwon told him after he had settled the bill. Kyuhyun could feel many pairs of eyes watching them as they rose to leave, too blatant curiosity and no little disapproval swirling thickly in the air. But Siwon waited for him. His hand settled on Kyuhyun’s lower back, quietly guiding him as they made their way toward the entrance, side by side.  
  
The hand didn’t leave his back, even after they had stepped out into the cold February air.  
  
“I have a question,” Kyuhyun suddenly blurted, spinning around to face the older man. Even in his own ears, the words were too loud—too brazen, especially in broad daylight and in front of so many people to play witness by chance. “If I were to do something," he continued despite a sense of dread rising quickly in his stomach, “can you promise that you won't read too much into it? That... there's no ulterior motive or anything and it's just something I want to do?”  
  
Siwon raised an eyebrow. “I should say it depends on the thing you want to do.”  
  
“Just this.”  
  
Then Kyuhyun hugged him. It was the most simple and childish thing he had ever done to anyone, let alone this man who had dragged him out of his house and into _his_ bed—and it clearly took Siwon by surprise. His only reaction was to stand rooted to the spot, in the middle of the sidewalk, as the utter unfamiliarity of it wound tension around his form.  
  
“Thank you,” Kyuhyun whispered, words bursting behind his lips and yet only a disjointed few coming out of his mouth. “Really, I just... I don’t know what to say. But I promise that I’ll try my best. I won't let you down.”  
  
“Well,” Siwon cleared his throat as one of his hands came to rest on Kyuhyun’s back, “that’s good enough for me.”  
  
“No, it isn’t,” Kyuhyun muttered, arms tightening around the older man. “It shouldn’t be. You have no idea how much this means to me.”  
  
“Then maybe when the time comes, you can dedicate your first song to me and we'll call it even.”  
  
Kyuhyun looked up, a budding grin half hidden in the warm folds of Siwon's coat. “Only if I also get to decide what’s for lunch and dinner today.”  
  
Siwon laughed, the sound erasing all remaining awkwardness between them. “Whatever my birthday boy wants,” he conceded, kissing the tip of Kyuhyun’s nose.  
  
And for once, Kyuhyun didn't care if the whole world was watching.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	5. Chapter 5

**05\. the nature of spoiling**

  
When his cell-phone rang for the sixth time in the last two hours, Zhou Mi answered it with a scowl.  
  
“See? This is why I said I should've come with you to the meeting.”  
  
There was only silence from the other side of the line for a few seconds; then Siwon's annoyingly calm, eternally imperturbable voice replied, _“I was merely wondering if you two were having a good time.”_  
  
Zhou Mi resisted an urge to throw something at the life-size action figure of a smugly grinning anime character—which, for some obscure reasons, reminded him of his boss—posing not far from where he sat. “I've been stuck in this game store for more than an hour and he's not done yet. Yes, I'm having a very good time, thank you very much.”  
  
 _“You know I'm not comfortable with the idea of letting him wander alone. We're not in Korea.”_  
  
“I swear, Siwon, he's not six. And do you know that he actually can speak Japanese? Not all that fluently, but I'm pretty sure he can survive on his own.”  
  
 _“It isn't that.”_  
  
Zhou Mi could feel his frown deepen as understanding dawned on him. “No. Please don't tell me that you're taking that silly talk seriously. I only mentioned it as a joke!”  
  
 _“Han Geng disagreed.”_  
  
“Han Geng is your chief of security and he's trained to wear the paranoid goggles. The guy sees your walking across the street as a possibly life-threatening situation.”  
  
 _“Well, I suppose I could get hit by a car,”_ Siwon suggested after a thoughtful pause.  
  
“Ha ha ha. Joking now, aren't we?”  
  
 _“You don't think there's anything in it?”_  
  
Zhou Mi pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a deep breath before answering patiently, “Siwon, they lost one deal to us. ONE. Well, maybe two deals if you count the thing with the UN three years ago, but who the hell would kill— _really kill_ —for something like this?”  
  
 _“In case it has slipped your mind, the next one is much, much bigger.”_  
  
“Fine, okay. It might be the biggest one we’ll ever get, but seriously, Mr Gwang and his henchmen are not the mafia. And neither are we for that matter, although you like to pretend otherwise.”  
  
 _“My policy is to be prepared for every possibility,”_ Siwon replied—an all-too-logical argument for a not-so-logical cause, in Zhou Mi’s opinion. _“You're right, it's unlikely, but there's no harm in guarding ourselves against a possible threat, especially now that we're competing with them for another deal. And I don't like the fact that he mentioned **him** the last time we met.” _  
  
“So that’s why I’m playing baby-sitter right now,” Zhou Mi muttered with a defeated sigh.  
  
 _“At least you speak fluent Japanese,”_ Siwon pointed out, a tinge of amusement in his voice.  
  
“A glorified, staggeringly overqualified baby-sitter then.”  
  
 _“And in return of your kind help, feel free to treat yourself to a little something or two—on my expense,”_ Siwon added generously.  
  
“Oh, I will,” Zhou Mi vowed, already scanning the wish list he always kept ready in his memory bank. “You can expect a few more bills to be added to next month’s expense. The things he's buying aren't cheap either, I can tell you.”  
  
 _“It’s not a problem. Buy him anything he wants; I've promised him as much.”_  
  
Zhou Mi was rendered speechless for a moment. Siwon probably had more money than anybody else in this side of the world, but he had never been one to be careless. This sudden change was both surprising and, if he were to be honest, a little disconcerting.  
  
“I never imagined that I would say this one day,” he spoke slowly, almost carefully, “but you're really smitten, aren't you?”  
  
 _“It was only a bet,”_ Siwon replied dismissively. That his answer was not an answer at all did not escape either of them, but Zhou Mi tactfully refrained from making any further remark. The call ended soon after and he was left with a mounting sense of wonder as the full implication of the earlier conversation began to sink in, leading to a succession of hypotheses.  
  
It took him about three seconds to arrive at the possibility of a romantic attachment—and exactly one-tenth of that time to discard it without any second thought. An impatient snort came through his nose. That something so ridiculous had crossed his mind at all was already an insult to his intelligence; to entertain the notion for any length of time would be downright moronic.  
  
He was still marvelling at the absurdity of his logic when Kyuhyun came to find him with a stack of game DVDs in his arms.  
  
“Will these be okay?” the boy asked, eyes glittering with hope.  
  
Zhou Mi gave him a look, but the bright, earnest gaze obliterated every single peeved comment lurking under his tongue. It would appear, he reflected grimly as he followed the boy to the cashier area, that Siwon was not the only one susceptible to Kyuhyun's charms, whatever they were.  
  
They emerged from the store a few minutes later, one jubilant, the other resigned. Zhou Mi knew that he was only following his boss' instructions to the letter, but the fact that he had just paid such an outrageous sum for those 'silly things' made him want to weep.  
  
At least it wasn’t his money. And the rich and powerful certainly could have their moments of folly from time to time, if only because they could afford them.  
  
“Where are we going now?” Kyuhyun cheerfully asked, obviously still walking on cloud nine.  
  
“Now,” Zhou Mi declared grimly, “is _my_ turn.”  
  
The first two fashion houses were enough to wipe every trace of exuberance from Kyuhyun's face. The third earned him an open grimace, which Zhou Mi thoroughly ignored, for there was something called payback in this world and it demanded fairness in every possible aspect of life. He was content to leave Kyuhyun in the company of a new portable console while he himself did his favourite turn among the constellations of beautiful clothes—for once without the pressure of having to sneak a glance at the price tag every single time.  
  
Until the sound of a sneeze caught his attention.  
  
He was in the middle of admiring a classy button-down shirt of emerald green colour with gold-and-black accents along the sleeves. Zhou Mi looked up and his eyes caught the sight of Kyuhyun sitting in a corner with one hand clamped over the lower half of his face. A second sneeze followed, and for the first time that day Zhou Mi saw—the unfashionable T-shirt and the too-thin coat and the inadequate shoes and the lack of scarf and hat and basically every clothing paraphernalia required for a day of shopping in Tokyo at the end of February.  
  
His intent scrutiny was noticed a few moments later. Kyuhyun glanced up and the look he gave the older man was almost frightened.  
  
“Please don't,” he pleaded.  
  
Zhou Mi's reaction was to whip out his phone and send his boss a text message.  
  
 _I'm buying your boy clothes. He **needs** them. _  
  
The reply came half-a-minute later.  
  
 _Permission granted. Buy him whatever you want._  
  
Zhou Mi almost cackled in glee. This, here, was his sphere of power at last—the place where he reigned supreme, invincible and unparalleled. Dragging a very unwilling Kyuhyun, Zhou Mi got down to his mission at once. His quick eyes flitted from one item to the next, appraising and dismissing them with promptitude born of long and dedicated years of practice. Two minutes later, he shoved a pile of the most eligible ones to a waiting shop assistant and steered Kyuhyun toward the fitting rooms.  
  
“I don't–”  
  
“Do me a favour,” Zhou Mi interrupted, pushing him into the mirror-lined cubicle with a jacket and a shirt, “and shut up while you try them on. It’s Siwon’s order and we still have a pile here.”  
  
Kyuhyun shot him a glare, which Zhou Mi returned with a hard, unyielding look. The victor between them was clear when Kyuhyun slammed the flimsy door shut, muttering profanities under his breath.  
  
This process was repeated in six more stores before Zhou Mi would declare himself satisfied. The sky had turned into a dark, sullen shade of blue when they finally returned to the hotel—with far more bags than they could carry.  
  
In the hotel lobby, they met Siwon who was conversing with a deferential concierge. He lifted an eyebrow at the number of shopping bags they were carrying.  
  
“When you said several, I thought you really meant _several_.”  
  
“They're all his,” Zhou Mi answered, prompting a squeak of protest from Kyuhyun.  
  
“You're the one who wanted to buy them!”  
  
“You'll thank me later,” Zhou Mi shot back airily. Kyuhyun glowered at him, but before he could come up with a scathing reply, Siwon had interfered by placing a hand on his back. Zhou Mi watched, interest rapidly mounting, as the simple gesture immediately slackened vengeance’s hold on Kyuhyun’s mind, softening his expression into an expectant one.  
  
“What do you say to an early dinner?”  
  
The mention of dinner was all it took to fully capture the boy’s attention. “No raw fish this time?” he said, a hopeful note in his voice.  
  
Siwon smiled and Zhou Mi didn't miss the tenderness in his eyes as he answered, “No. Tonight we'll have the best steak in the world—just what you want.”  
  
A brilliant grin lit up Kyuhyun's face and the boy quickly gathered his bags, leaving but two in Zhou Mi’s hand, and rushed toward the elevator area. Everyone and everything else were clearly and immediately forgotten. Zhou Mi sighed, not failing to catch the small, indulgent smile on his friend’s lips.  
  
“You spoil him too much,” he pointed out.  
  
“He deserves to be spoiled,” was Siwon’s matter-of-fact reply. Zhou Mi resisted an urge to roll his eyes.  
  
“And you love spoiling him.”  
  
“I do,” Siwon admitted mildly. “Which reminds me, thank you for keeping him company today.”  
  
“Thank yourself,” Zhou Mi shot back, caressing the bag containing his two new shirts and coat. “Just don't yell at me when you get the credit card’s bill.”  
  
Siwon laughed. “We shall see.”  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	6. Chapter 6

****

**06\. two sides of control**

  


It was one thing to lie down and spread your legs for the man who also happened to be paying for every single expense in your life. It was quite another to hear other people _talking_ about it.  
  
Kyuhyun knew that it was only a chance remark. One made by a hotel staff, spoken to another. The action itself would have been largely harmless, as long as he had remained ignorant of it—but it was done in his presence, within his earshot, behind a smile that carried the hidden barb of countless thorns.  
  
After all, he was only a male prostitute, a source of frivolous amusement for the obscenely rich Mr Choi. There was absolutely no reason why he should understand a whispered comment coming from the hotel's grapevine, made in a language obviously foreign to him.  
  
And there was absolutely no reason why one should not speak the truth.  
  
 _That one. The whore._  
  
It was ridiculous how four little words could destroy what had been a perfectly wonderful holiday. The worst part was that they were absolutely true, and there was no proof as damning as the little moans and pants coming from his mouth as Siwon’s cock fucked him deep and slow.  
  
Kyuhyun blinked a drop of sweat out of his eyes and licked his dry lips, struggling for focus. He was on his hands and knees, had been for the last fifteen minutes or so, and his muscles ached from the strain. This was one of those times when Siwon chose to take things slowly, enjoying every deliberate touch and sensual caress. Kyuhyun did not like these sessions nearly half as much—mostly because Siwon tended to keep him at that one point between frustration and raging lust for an unbearably long stretch of time—and right now, after that comment, he liked it even less.  
  
Impatience made him push back and move his hips to bring the pace faster. The words still swirled in his head, but his anger had given birth to such bitterness that now he only wanted to prove those people right. And so he spread his thighs wider and moaned louder, as if wanting to prove how much of a whore he was.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. Siwon’s thrusts became erratic, some hard enough to tear broken gasps from Kyuhyun’s throat, but the slip only lasted a few seconds. Then he slowed down again, back to his old rhythm, and Kyuhyun was left with a limping desire and an unvoiced scream.  
  
Apparently, even _whoredom_ would not allow him the barest semblance of control. It was no wonder the world thought so lowly of him.  
  
“Why are you angry?” Siwon suddenly broke their silence, his voice arresting all trains of thoughts in Kyuhyun’s head into a halt.  
  
“What?” Kyuhyun asked shakily, teetering between self-hate and an overwhelming need to climax.  
  
“You’re angry.” Siwon’s warm breath skimmed the tip of his left ear. “What happened?”  
  
The question nearly made Kyuhyun lash out, but he gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Nothing. Will you just–”  
  
“No.” The cut was decisive, as decisive as the man himself—and as decisive as the sudden stop of his thrusts. “Not until you answer my question.”  
  
An angry growl crawled out of Kyuhyun’s throat. He fell to one elbow, his other hand reaching down for his heavy erection and stroking fast. He was perfectly able to get himself off without the older man’s help—and he was fully intent to, whether Siwon liked it or not.  
  
Except Choi Siwon was a bastard who anticipated everything. A moment later, Kyuhyun found both of his wrists seized and held down on the pillow just above his head.  
  
“Not yet,” Siwon told him, the length of his body now hovering above Kyuhyun’s.  
  
“What are you doing?” Kyuhyun hissed angrily, robbed of that one source of relief.  
  
“I’m teaching you control. Try to defeat me first and maybe I’ll let you come.”  
  
Kyuhyun’s first instinct was to fight back. He thrashed furiously, seeking freedom and friction both and getting neither. Instead, the movement caused the tip of Siwon’s cock to graze his prostate a few times—but it only made him pant louder, tears springing to his eyes as his arousal spike even higher. Kyuhyun thought he could go mad simply from the heavy throb in his cock alone. He sobbed helplessly into the pillow, cheek pressed against the sweat-damp cover, lips mumbling gibberish that sounded too much like ‘please’.  
  
“You’ll get nothing acting like this,” Siwon informed him, his voice dry. “Don’t struggle like an animal. Think. Plan. See what you have and use them.”  
  
“What– I can’t even _move_ ,” Kyuhyun spat, fingers coiling and uncoiling uselessly in the circle of Siwon’s hands.  
  
“Then use something else,” the man said matter-of-factly. “If you want to come, if you want control, if you want _anything_ at all—fight for it. Take it from my hand.”  
  
Kyuhyun answered by clenching tight around Siwon’s cock, earning himself a soft gasp that brought a sharp flicker of smugness in him. It was such an alien feeling—he could not move, and yet that gasp, that _voice_ —that Kyuhyun had to repeat it a second, third, and fourth time, until his ears picked up the unmistakable harshness in Siwon’s breathing. He grinned, feral and bright. Only then that he rose to his elbows for a steadier position and started his real battle.  
  
“Ah!”  
  
Even the slightest motion of his hips brought him pleasure so intense that Kyuhyun flung patience out of the window right from the start. His mouth fell open, sounds freely pouring from his throat as he fucked himself on the thick length. Kyuhyun knew perfectly well how much the older man liked to hear him moan; restraining himself on that front would have been stupid. Siwon might have more self-control and the advantage of experience, but it did not change the fact that they were both close— _too_ close for anything else to matter.  
  
Kyuhyun recognised his victory the moment Siwon’s hands left his wrists to grip the curve of his ass, spreading him wide. And then the cock inside him began fucking him hard and fast, the force brutal enough to make him see stars. Kyuhyun couldn’t help the sharp, triumphant smirk that splashed across his face even as new streams of moan broke out of the confines of his throat.  
  
It did not last long. The smirk vanished as soon as Siwon’s fingers curled at the base of his erection, and then Kyuhyun was too busy screaming, sobbing an incoherent string of _“oh God yes please please yes please”_ into the pillow to think about control anymore. Four strokes later, he was coming so hard that the world burst into blackness.  
  
“You learned well,” was the first thing Siwon said afterwards, his hand stroking the length of Kyuhyun’s spine.  
  
Kyuhyun blinked the mist over his eyes, still basking in the satiation which had settled deep in his bones. Smiling lazily, he took Siwon’s soiled hand and slowly cleaned the streaks of come with small, languid licks.  
  
“How well?” he then asked, voice roughened by much misuse.  
  
The rekindled lust that spread in the dark depths of Siwon’s eyes was an answer enough.  
  
  
–  
  
  
“I hate your morning habit.”  
  
Siwon looked up from his tablet, finding a sight far more appealing than the dull monthly report from his Osaka branch. A half-awake Kyuhyun was standing in the doorway leading to the master bedroom, heavily leaning against the wooden frame. His hair was mussed and the presence of a half-pout on his lips was a sight both endearing and alluring at the same time.  
  
In the soft morning light permeating the hotel suite, Kyuhyun looked tantalising in ways different from last night. Siwon could not help but wonder if the boy wore nothing else other than the white, oversized T-shirt covering the upper part of his body—and very little else.  
  
That he wasn't the only one who devoted some time in this line of thought was obvious when two room service staffs who had been preparing a breakfast table for them in the dining area suddenly stopped their activities. The open way they were now staring at Kyuhyun was more than telling.  
  
“I've ordered breakfast for us,” Siwon told him, nodding toward the two men (who had hastily resumed their business) as he reached for his unfinished cup of coffee on the side table.  
  
“Oh.” Kyuhyun perked up a little at the mention of breakfast, but only gave the strangers a cursory glance. Instead, he walked toward the sofa where Siwon was seated and settled next to him, legs folded under his thighs. “Give me some of that,” he said again, his gaze directed at Siwon’s cup.  
  
“You don’t like coffee,” the older man pointed out.  
  
“But I need something strong to get rid of the taste of your come from my mouth.”  
  
A pair of sounds, one a gasp, the other suspiciously like a whimper, came from the direction of the dining area. Siwon knew better than to acknowledge either and only remarked, “I thought you liked the taste.”  
  
“I do,” Kyuhyun murmured, lashes coyly lowered, but offered no further explanation. He leaned forward instead, now on his hands and knees, wearing an expectant expression that formed a tight knot in the base of Siwon's stomach. The older man stared, acutely aware of this sight presented before his eyes and how much torment it could unleash on him. Recollections of last night rose sharply in his mind; the way Kyuhyun had managed to snap his iron control using no more than raw sensuality and sheer stubbornness was another proof of how quickly this game could turn against him.  
  
It was curiosity which finally made him follow the boy’s lead. He raised his cup until the rim touched those pink, parted lips, and then angled his wrist—just so, to allow a steady trickle of dark liquid into Kyuhyun’s waiting mouth.  
  
Years of holding his appearance of calm and imperturbability on the head of every meeting table was the only reason why he managed to keep his hand steady. Kyuhyun’s eyes had fluttered shut, dark long lashes fanning over pale cheeks as his head tilted slightly to accommodate the angle. A small moan rose from his throat, strangely loud in the still, silent room. It chased a trail of goose bumps up Siwon’s arm as he watched the slow work of Kyuhyun’s throat, swallowing two, three more times.  
  
The cup was not yet drained when Siwon decided to withdraw. He put it back on the table and found the boy was once more looking at him, eyes slightly glazed and lips twisted into a smirk.  
  
“I like your taste better,” Kyuhyun stated, soft enough to convey intimacy, but not so soft that it would only reach one pair of ears. Uncoiling his legs, he draped one across Siwon’s lap, baring a generous length of naked thigh for the pleasure of any feasting eye.  
  
Siwon resisted the bite of a smile. He knew very well that this performance was not intended for his sole enjoyment; the true audience was standing agape not far from them, eyes rapt on such wonderfully provocative sight before their eyes.  
  
“You may leave if you have finished, thank you,” Siwon told them, voice neutral yet firm enough to leave no room for misinterpretation. The two men caught on quickly and excused themselves in a hurry, guilt evident in their strained gait. Kyuhyun was watching their escape with something like ruthless delight; it was, Siwon recognised, the face of someone had just enjoyed the cold, bittersweet dish of their revenge.  
  
“What did they do to you?” he half-wondered, half-inquired.  
  
Kyuhyun raised his eyes, the complacent edge of his smirk still present. “Why do you think they did anything to me?” he shot back.  
  
“That little performance couldn't be for your amusement only.”  
  
“Why not? I like doing it.” The reply was gleeful, almost cheeky. “As much as you like watching me do it, I bet.”  
  
“Such a naughty boy,” Siwon murmured, a note of amused reproach trickling into his voice. Kyuhyun smiled and repositioned his limbs to straddle Siwon's lap properly.  
  
“They can see but not touch. That’s the rule, right?”  
  
“Among others,” Siwon agreed, hands resting on the boy's smooth thighs. “It doesn’t change my question though. What did they do to you?”  
  
Kyuhyun’s eyes suddenly grew hard. “They deserve it,” he declared, his voice low and tight.  
  
“Deserve what?”  
  
The boy shook his head, pressing his cheek against the curve of Siwon’s shoulder. Siwon frowned.  
  
“Tell me,” he commanded.  
  
“It was nothing,” Kyuhyun muttered, lips pursed into a stubborn line. “At least nothing you need to worry about. I can deal with it just fine.  
  
“I don't like the idea of anyone hurting you.”  
  
Kyuhyun looked up, surprised. “No one is hurting me,” he replied. “Really. It wasn't anything like that.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes.” The boy’s eyes softened and a shy smile found its way to his lips. “But thank you.”  
  
Siwon still could feel a frown creasing his brow, but chose to let the matter go for the moment. “If you say so,” he sighed, and then pulled Kyuhyun closer, appreciating the way the boy instinctively leaned into his touch. “By the way, did you say you liked my taste better?”  
  
An embarrassed flush burst across Kyuhyun's cheeks. “I knew you would bring that up,” he said accusingly. “I was talking rubbish, alright? Can we please just forget it?”  
  
“Not when you were saying such provocative things,” Siwon hummed, nuzzling his nose against Kyuhyun’s neck.  
  
“You’re a pervert.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure you said it first.”  
  
Kyuhyun made a small, frustrated sound and wrestled his way out of Siwon’s arms. “I want breakfast now,” he announced, jumping to his feet and escaping toward the breakfast table.  
  
Siwon’s smile widened but he said nothing. After all, they still had the whole day open for their full enjoyment.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	7. Chapter 7

**07\. this unavoidable thing (between us)**

  


“We have a problem.”  
  
It wasn’t the words as much as the tone of Han Geng’s voice which immediately caught Siwon’s attention. His chief of security, a calm, self-possessed man by any conceivable standard, rarely showed his emotions on duty. The anxious note in his voice just now, however, was unmistakable despite the cloud of constant drone coming from the jet’s engines.  
  
“A few problems actually,” Han Geng continued after Zhou Mi had risen from his seat and joined them. “Kangin just called. He said Gwang Jong-bak died in a car accident early this morning.”  
  
The sum of Siwon’s reaction was a slight rise of his eyebrows. Zhou Mi, however, was more expressive, not to mention more vocal. “What? Gwang Jong-bak as in Gwang Jong-bak from the Gwang Enterprises?”  
  
“Yes, and the youngest brother of Gwang Yun-seok, their chairman,” Han Geng replied, his tone falling back to its usual equilibrium with bare recitation of facts. “So far, accounts of the accident are few, seeing that it happened at five in the morning. But Kangin is in contact with our sources in newspapers and televisions and his team are putting a more comprehensive report as we speak. It should be ready when we land.”  
  
“What about the cause of the accident?” Siwon asked.  
  
“No official statement so far. The investigation is still under way, but there are rumours that the police are seriously considering foul play.”  
  
“No surprise there,” Zhou Mi muttered, folding his arms in front of his chest. “He was one of the top candidates to replace his brother in the future. Gwang Yun-seok doesn't have a son, but he certainly isn’t lacking ambitious successors when it comes to the chair.”  
  
“True, but there's no indication that the police are thinking along the same line,” Han Geng replied. “The Gwangs are another matter though. And if the prevalent rumours are to be believed, they’re not pointing fingers at one of their own.”  
  
Zhou Mi’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me.”  
  
“Unfortunately no.” Han Geng’s voice was grim and his eyes, as they shifted once more to his boss, were clouded with worry. “Until now, there hasn't been any official announcement from their side, but it's generally known that Gwang Yun-seok is basically accusing you of murder.”  
  
Siwon could feel his lips curving into an amused smile. “That will be difficult to prove, seeing that I didn’t do it,” he pointed out.  
  
“Difficult but not impossible,” Zhou Mi snapped, his voice rising. “Planting false evidences is about as easy as dropping cigarette butts, especially if this is really a plan to frame you—which isn't nearly as ridiculous as it sounds.”  
  
“I don’t smoke.”  
  
Zhou Mi glared at him. “What I’m saying is, it’s not impossible.”  
  
Siwon leaned back in his seat and shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not really worried about it. The publicity is another thing though, but we can’t stop chins from wagging.”  
  
“That’s the other problem I was about to mention,” Han Geng spoke again. “It seems that somehow the media has caught wind of your return today. Kangin said that quite a number of reporters were already waiting at the airport.”  
  
Zhou Mi groaned. Siwon frowned, his eyes immediately searching for Kyuhyun who was sprawled in the long seat at the back of the plane with a game console in hand. The new burgundy sweater and dark grey jeans looked good on him, he thought appreciatively. At least, it was one consolation they could have when pictures of the boy coming out of his jet appeared in the internet later today.  
  
“This will have a big impact on our discussion with the Chubu Electric.” Zhou Mi’s anxious voice returned his attention to the conversation at hand. “A week ago they still favoured us, but once this gets out, they might reconsider giving the partnership to the Gwangs instead.”  
  
“We’ll deal with it when we land,” Siwon said decisively. “There’s no use speculating now when we don’t even have half the facts.”  
  
“And the reporters?” Han Geng asked.  
  
“You can’t talk to them,” Zhou Mi quickly warned him. “Let me handle the press until you’ve made a decision on what we'll do next. I can hold them off long enough.”  
  
“Alright,” Siwon replied with a sigh. The grim silence which followed afterwards told him that the three of them were all thinking about the same thing.  
  
“What about _him_?” Zhou Mi finally spoke up, his face carefully blank.  
  
Siwon didn’t respond. Instead, he rose to his feet and walked to the back of the plane. Kyuhyun looked up at his approach, the victorious grin on his face disappearing rapidly when he noticed the grim look Siwon was wearing.  
  
“We need to talk,” Siwon told him.  
  
Kyuhyun straightened up slowly, making some space for the older man to sit. It took Siwon less than a minute to lay bare all the facts. He carefully watched the shifting expressions on Kyuhyun’s face as the boy listened to his explanation in perfect silence.  
  
“Do you know what that means?” he asked after he had mentioned the possibility of his return being expected.  
  
“There will be reporters when we get off the plane,” Kyuhyun answered after a pause.  
  
“Yes.” Siwon nodded. “I think it's no secret that you’re living with me, but this can turn really ugly if we aren’t careful.”  
  
“I can wait in the plane until they’re gone if that’s what you want.” Kyuhyun's voice was flat and the expression he wore was one of blank resignation. Siwon felt a frown settle across his brow.  
  
“You’ve been with me long enough to know what publicity means—but this time, the level of exposure will be nothing like you’ve ever experienced.”  
  
“I know. That’s why I said I’d stay in the plane if that’s what you want.”  
  
“But is that what you want?”  
  
Kyuhyun shot him a glare that spelled frustration more than anger. “It doesn’t matter. Look, you have enough problems as it is. The last thing I want is to be the cause of another one, so I’ll just stay here until they’re gone.”  
  
“I ask because honestly, it makes no difference to me,” Siwon told him matter-of-factly. “They’re already talking about your presence around me, so I really cannot care less if this makes them keep talking. I’m only worried about you.”  
  
Kyuhyun stared at him but didn’t answer. After a while, Siwon took a deep breath and continued, “You still have school. You have your friends. You have people that matter to you. But once this makes the headline, you’ll get dragged into it and you’ll have to deal with the comments and everything—and so will they.”  
  
The last part made Kyuhyun look down to his lap, but not before Siwon had the chance to catch the crushed look on his face. “You’re saying that some of them might not stay around,” he said in a considerably weaker voice.  
  
“I’m saying that it’s a possibility.”  
  
A long silence followed. Kyuhyun was alternately biting his lips and playing with the hem of his sweater. Siwon tried to focus on him and not on the brewing restlessness in his chest. The thought that he would soon be letting Kyuhyun go did not sit well with him, but he knew the choice wasn’t his to make.  
  
It wouldn’t be fair.  
  
“I’d rather…” Kyuhyun finally broke his silence, but the rest of his mumbled words couldn’t make it past the engine’s roar around them.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
“I said I’d rather be where you are,” the boy repeated in a louder voice, eyes glancing up only for a moment before quickly looking down again. “I mean, if it’s really all the same to you, I… I prefer to stay with you.”  
  
Siwon firmly squashed the treacherous flicker of hope which had sparked inside him and said instead, “Do you understand that there will be cameras flashing and taking our pictures together and some of them will definitely appear in the internet under the foulest headlines?”  
  
“Yes.” Kyuhyun now met his gaze, fingers tightly interlaced on his lap. “I’m not trying to be brave or anything. It’s just that… I don’t want to hang my head low anymore. I am what I am and you are what you are. I just need to be able to live with that.”  
  
“My point is you don't have to,” Siwon heard himself say.  
  
A shadow of something like fear came to Kyuhyun’s eyes. “Are you kicking me out?” His tone immediately turned defensive.  
  
“No, I'm giving you a choice. Instead of living with me, you can rent a place of your own, maybe one closer to school–”  
  
“And _that_ isn't kicking me out?”  
  
“Listen to me.” A hard note came to Siwon’s voice. Very few people dared to cut him mid-sentence and Kyuhyun seemed determined on having a spot among those few. “When this breaks out, it will be bad. And I mean _bad_ bad. People will be calling you names. Some of them might even throw them directly at your face, not to mention in public. But there are ways for the damage to be minimised, and one of them is by showing these people that you’re no longer living with me.”  
  
“Then what about you?” Kyuhyun shot back, a challenge in his sharpening tone. “Not only are you coming under suspicion of murder, you're also going to deal with all that talk about how you are fucking a teenage boy. Look, here's a certified pedophile. How hard is it to think that he's also a murderer. Are you sure you're ready for that?”  
  
Siwon stared, surprised. The fact that Kyuhyun was _challenging_ him was new, and so was the fact that he could find absolutely nothing to say in the next five seconds—something thoroughly unheard of. It did not help that among the array of emotions evoked by that challenge, he could find neither irritation nor desire for retaliation. Simply the thought that Kyuhyun cared enough to stand up to him and say so to his face meant a whole different world to him.  
  
“Are you worried about me?”  
  
Kyuhyun scowled, his cheeks still flushed. “That isn’t the point,” he retorted—although as far as denials went, it wasn't a very convincing one.  
  
“I wonder,” Siwon hummed, deliberately teasing him. Kyuhyun’s hands tensed slightly when he reached out for them, but the boy did not pull away. Siwon smiled, his thumb brushing a row of white knuckles.  
  
“They would be right about one thing,” he said slowly, a hint of regret trickling to his voice. “You’re a teenage boy. Which also makes them right to call me a pedophile, I suppose.”  
  
“All I'm saying is they can stick that name on you,” Kyuhyun snapped, the expression on his face a mix of guilt, irritation, and discomfiture. “Actually, if you really think about it, you have a lot more reasons to kick me out than I do. Sure you don't want to reconsider?  
  
Siwon quirked an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get rid of me now?”  
  
“I'm just stating the truth,” Kyuhyun muttered, looking down to his lap again. “You have every reason to get rid of me.”  
  
 _And that’s a fact,_ Siwon heard the unspoken words, firmly caught behind his teeth. And he said, “You're right,” because it was a fact and he was a shrewd businessman who knew the value of facts, pleasant or unpleasant.  
  
Except there were times—really rare times, but this was one of them—when facts could simply go to hell. Siwon knew that his decision was made when he spoke again, “But my answer is still no.”  
  
Kyuhyun did not look up, but he had gone very still. “Because I already know what I want,” Siwon continued after a pause and withdrew his hand; this time, Kyuhyun’s eyes followed him. “Will it be easier for me to fight this battle without you in the equation? Perhaps. But if it means that I also have to let you go, then no. I’m not so weak that I can’t fight my battles in my own terms.”  
  
The corners of Kyuhyun’s lips twitched. “This is actually about your pride, isn’t it?”  
  
“Just a little,” Siwon admitted with a smile, earning a snort from the boy. “But it won’t matter even in the slightest if your answer is no. It’s your life, so it’s your decision.”  
  
Kyuhyun didn’t speak for a long time. It wasn’t until the pilot announced that they would be landing in twenty minutes that he opened his mouth again.  
  
“Do you really want me to stay?” his question was soft, timid, barely skimming the surface of all other sounds around them.  
  
“I do,” Siwon answered.  
  
“Really?” There was a hint of pink on Kyuhyun’s cheeks—and for whatever reason, it pleased him.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Kyuhyun’s answer was only in the shape of a smile. It was small and shaky, but it was such a sweet, genuine smile that Siwon couldn’t help but think, his heart breaking a little, that this was probably the first time in his life that Kyuhyun had ever felt wanted.  
  
And this was the reason why he put his arm around Kyuhyun’s shoulders, pulling him close as they walked through the sea of reporters half an hour later, under heavy torrents of blitzes and fired questions.  
  
It wouldn’t be an easy fight, he knew, but some things deserved all the battles in the world.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	8. Chapter 8

**08\. keep the world without**

  
“You should eat more.”  
  
Kyuhyun looked up and smiled at the middle-aged lady who was frowning down at him in concern. Auntie Sung was the housekeeper who came in daily to clean the penthouse. She rarely spoke to him, as Kyuhyun was usually still at school when she did her job, but the long holiday and his reluctance to go outside after seeing his pictures all over the internet had since increased their meeting’s frequency.  
  
It was the fourth day since she had started bringing him lunch. Kyuhyun still remembered the look on her face when she had discovered that he had survived mostly on instant _ramyeon_ and frozen food when Siwon was not at home—which was most of the time nowadays. He knew what she thought of him, so it had come as a big surprise when a few days ago, she had suddenly knocked on his bedroom door and said that she had prepared some food.  
  
“I’m not really hungry,” Kyuhyun said apologetically. “I’m sorry, the food is really delicious but…” he trailed off, not knowing what else to say, and looked down after mumbling another _sorry._  
  
She sighed. “That's what you said yesterday too,” the woman pointed out flatly as she started clearing out the table. “Well, I guess they'll keep for dinner. Unless you’re planning to go out this evening?”  
  
Kyuhyun only shook his head. Siwon most likely would come back late (again) and he didn’t really like the idea of ordering a delivery or going out only to buy some food. The building’s concierge always looked at him funny every time they crossed paths.  
  
Despite his brave speech in front of Siwon, Kyuhyun knew that he was scared. Meeting other people was like going into a war zone. He hardly ever left the penthouse after they had returned from Japan except for his twice-a-week vocal classes. To his endless gratitude, Mr Yoo made no mention of his new so-called ‘reputation’ and simply instructed him as usual.  
  
It was Auntie Sung who confused the hell out of him.  
  
“I don't want to get my nose into other people's business,” she suddenly said again, startling him out of his thoughts, “but I just can't keep myself silent any longer. You shouldn't be doing this.”  
  
Kyuhyun’s heart fell. He glanced up at the older woman, wary and more than a little disappointed. But it wasn't as if he hadn't expected this conversation; in fact, he was rather surprised that it had taken her this long to voice her disapproval.  
  
“I’m not staying here because he forced me to,” he told her, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I’m staying here because I have no other place to live.”  
  
“But the two of you are…” A shadow of a grimace passed across her face. It was obvious that she could not bring herself to say the word. “I mean, all the news on TV said so. You are… Well, he and you…”  
  
“Yes,” Kyuhyun answered faintly, feeling massively uncomfortable himself. “But like I said, it’s not like he’s forcing me or anything. Please don’t think badly about him.”  
  
The woman pursed her lips. “A boy like you should be at school, going out with friends and enjoying your life. Not chained to a man twice your age.”  
  
“I’m not,” he declared, rising to his feet, fingers clenched. “Look, if you want to judge us, feel free to do it. I’ll just stay in my room so we don’t have to see each other.”  
  
“I have a son your age,” she spoke again before he could leave the table, her voice tight. “I look at you and wonder what if the same thing happens to my son. I couldn’t–”  
  
“Then don’t look,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I’m not your son, because you know what? My mother is dead. She’s _dead_. My parents are dead and my uncle hates me. The rest of his family hates me too. Siwon,” Kyuhyun gasped, voice caught painfully in his throat, “Siwon is the only one who cares. And he treats me well. The whole world thinks that I’m just some shit who deserves all the bad things that happened to me. He doesn’t. He treats me like a human being so don’t fucking judge him.”  
  
Kyuhyun turned away and stormed into his room, locking himself in, before he could hear her say anything more.  
  
He hated himself for crying, but the tears didn’t stop for a long time.  
  
  
—  
  
  
 _“How’re you?”_  
  
Kyuhyun didn’t realise how much he actually missed the other boy until Changmin’s voice reached his ears. The question was awkward—hell, the _subject_ was awkward—but Changmin had just returned from his vacation only to discover his best friend’s pictures all over the internet, attached to all sorts of sordid names that very few people would dare to articulate in public.  
  
And yet the first question he asked after Kyuhyun's breathless ‘hello’ was _how’re you._  
  
“I’m fine,” Kyuhyun answered after making sure that his voice wouldn't betray him. “Where are you?”  
  
 _“At home.”_  
  
“You’re not getting into trouble with your parents?”  
  
 _“Don’t worry about it,”_ Changmin told him, his voice suddenly defensive.  
  
Kyuhyun sighed. “That bad, huh,” he muttered, trying to ignore the silent trickle of fear in his chest. He had never met Changmin's parents in person, but he could guess very well what they thought of him.  
  
 _“I don’t want to talk about this,”_ the other boy retorted.  
  
“Sure, just let it rot in the corner until we can’t bear the smell anymore,” Kyuhyun shot back, suddenly, irrationally angry.  
  
 _“Why are you being like this?”_  
  
“You know it’s going to happen one day.”  
  
 _“Look,”_ Changmin’s voice rose both in pitch and decibel, _“they're my parents and I love them. But they can say whatever they want to say and you're still going to be my friend. I’m **your** friend—and unless you're planning to ditch me, I’m not going to give up on you, Cho, so stop trying to push me away or I’ll seriously punch you.”_  
  
It was one of those times when Kyuhyun realised, beyond any doubt, that despite every shit fate had decided to throw at him, Cho Kyuhyun still had at least one blessing in life and his name was Shim Changmin. He bit his lips and blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay.  
  
“Punch me how? Through the phone?”  
  
 _“If I have to.”_  
  
“Punching is lame,” Kyuhyun declared, grateful that his voice didn't crack—much. “There are other, more creative ways to punish me.”  
  
 _“I'll leave that to your sugar daddy.”_  
  
“Are you sure? You don’t know what I can do with my mouth.”  
  
He could hear the sound of Changmin’s laugh, disguised into a snort. _“See? This kind of thing is exactly what gets you into so much trouble.”_  
  
“I’m not like this to others,” Kyuhyun heard himself say quietly. “You're special, Shim Chwang.”  
  
 _“I know,”_ Changmin answered brusquely after an awkward pause. Neither of them was comfortable with this sort of thing and Kyuhyun was relieved when the subject turned to school.  
  
Their last year in high school would begin in two weeks. Kyuhyun didn’t mention the possibility that they might end up in different classes this year, but he still remembered, very _clearly_ , the hell he had gone through during his first year. Being openly gay was a sure way of getting a one-way ticket to at least half of the school’s bully list.  
  
Things would definitely be much worse this time around.  
  
At least that one year had taught him how to fight, Kyuhyun thought wryly. Even if the best he could do was throwing wild punches and aimless kicks, with a few desperate bites added in between if necessary.  
  
 _“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?”_ Changmin suddenly asked him.  
  
Kyuhyun’s mouth went dry at the suggestion. He couldn’t help but feel annoyed at himself. It wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal, but simply the thought of a public place, with so many people who might recognise him from the many pictures, made his stomach clench in fear.  
  
“Let’s just meet online,” he suggested after taking a deep breath. “Starcraft.”  
  
 _“Now?”_  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
 _“‘Kay, see you there.”_  
  
The next four hours were the happiest Kyuhyun had been in two weeks.  
  
  
—  
  
  
“You’ve been a little flat lately.”  
  
Kyuhyun raised a pair of guilty eyes to glance at his frowning vocal instructor. Mr Yoo was nearly always wearing a displeased look on his face, but today the lines on his forehead were significantly more marked.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Kyuhyun said the only thing he could say in that situation. He had no excuses—at least none which would make him feel better or more justified. Singing was not only about technique; it was about passion too, and between trying to hide from the world and trying to feel less ashamed of himself, he knew he was gradually losing something precious.  
  
And he couldn’t do anything about it.  
  
The days were empty and endless. Siwon was spending more and more of his time at work. Whenever he came home, he would be too exhausted to spare Kyuhyun more than a small, wan smile and a few perfunctory words. As much as he craved the older man’s attention, Kyuhyun only returned the smile and tried to keep himself out of the way.  
  
Auntie Sung, on the other hand, had reverted to her old pattern. She did her job quietly for an hour or so, and then went away again after leaving some food laid out on the table or stored in the refrigerator. As grateful as he was for the food, Kyuhyun made sure never to leave his room whenever she was around, if only to spare them the pain of another argument. One wrong step and he might have to resort to instant noodles for the rest of the holiday.  
  
And then there was Changmin.  
  
His best friend. His lifeline. The only one who kept him sane these days. It was embarrassing how much Kyuhyun depended on the other boy, but to his relief, Changmin never made any comment on the daily phone calls or frequent text messages.  
  
But then the death of a relative took him away to Mokpo and Kyuhyun found himself once more alone, with gaming alongside strangers as his only escape. After Changmin and his no-nonsense approach to their friendship, this loneliness was two times worse.  
  
“Do you know the difference between a good singer and a _great_ singer?” Mr Yoo suddenly spoke again, breaking his line of thought.  
  
Guessing the answer wasn’t that hard, but Kyuhyun shook his head. He could already sense a lecture coming.  
  
“A good singer has a good technique,” the older man continued, leaning back to his seat. “Everybody can learn it. I can teach you every singing technique known to man and you, with the kind of talent you have, can probably pick it up faster than most people—and still it won’t make you a great singer. Let me tell you that out there, the good ones don’t survive. You have to be great. You have to make people understand what you’re singing with your voice alone. Emotions. Passion. They have to hear your heart scream. Your soul shriek. You must bare yourself and let the world see the ugly parts of you. But you can’t do that as long as you hide.”  
  
The word was a slap to his face. Kyuhyun knew what he was doing—behind his bedroom door, wearing the cloak of anonymity in online games. Hiding was practically the only thing he succeeded in nowadays.  
  
“You are hiding right now,” Mr Yoo spoke again, his voice stern, “and unless you find a way to jump over that wall, you’ll never sing the way you’re supposed to.”  
  
Kyuhyun nodded numbly, but his teacher was merciless.  
  
“This isn’t science. This is art. I’m sorry but hard work is not enough. Not without courage and honesty.”  
  
  
—  
  
  
 _When are you coming back?_  
  
idk the funeral’s tomorrow so maybe the day after  
  
Kyuhyun frowned and let his phone fall from his hand onto the bed. He was glaring at the innocent-looking device when an evil laugh signalled another message coming in.  
  
 _you alright over there?_  
  
The question made him roll his eyes, but it also brought a smile to his lips.  
  
 _Yeah. Just beyond bored._  
  
kill some protoss and make sure you’re not totally obliterated until your hero returns, princess  
  
Kyuhyun snorted and typed back the ever eloquent _fuck you_ before tossing his cell to the other end of the bed. He promised himself that Changmin would get his ass thoroughly kicked as soon as he came back.  
  
It was almost two in the morning. Kyuhyun sighed, not feeling sleepy in the slightest, and got up from the bed to refill his glass.  
  
The rest of the apartment was dark except for a few decorative night lamps scattered along the walls, casting a dim glow. He directly headed for the kitchen, bare feet making very little sound, but then stopped short with a gasp when he noticed someone standing in front of the glass door leading to the balcony.  
  
“Siwon?” he managed to croak out after his initial panic had eased, heart knocking at his ribcage. “You’re still up.”  
  
“I can’t sleep,” was the subdued reply. Even in the low light, he could see the dark rings under Siwon’s eyes. The man looked tired, drained, _overwhelmed_ —so much that Kyuhyun felt his heart clench.  
  
“I can get you something to drink if you want,” he heard himself say, mostly to get away from all the horrible things he was feeling at the moment.  
  
“Thanks.” Siwon shot him a faint smile. “Just water, please.”  
  
Kyuhyun dashed to the kitchen and got another glass of water. Siwon was already sitting in the sofa when he returned, shoulders hunched and eyes faraway. Kyuhyun contemplated about five escape scenarios before finally gathering enough courage to claim the empty spot next to the older man.  
  
The silence stretched for an unbearably long time until Kyuhyun couldn’t stand it any longer and blurt out, “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”  
  
Siwon looked up from his untouched glass. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Everything.” Kyuhyun met his gaze and managed not to flinch. “You’ve been working so hard lately. Four or five times harder than you used to.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Siwon told him and took a tiny sip from his glass.  
  
“You always say that,” Kyuhyun snapped, anger coiling like barbed wires around his chest. It was irrational; he had no right to be angry. He couldn’t have done anything even if Siwon had told him about his work.  
  
But he also knew that Siwon would be leaving for the office in four hours and yet here he was, awake and worrying about something which Kyuhyun was obviously too stupid and useless to understand.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, thoroughly hating himself at the moment.  
  
“It’s not your fault.”  
  
 _Like hell it isn’t_ , Kyuhyun wanted to shout, but the tone of Siwon's voice kept his mouth shut. Not that it mattered much, because the man already spoke again a few seconds later, “I lost the project.”  
  
Kyuhyun froze. There was a terrible sensation in his stomach, almost like being punched from within. If he had felt useless before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now, against the sharp, crippling guilt that speared his insides.  
  
“So the Gwangs got it?” he heard himself ask, but it was almost like someone else was speaking.  
  
“No.” Siwon sighed, leaning back against the sofa, eyes closed. “It’s another company entirely.”  
  
“That was your biggest project to date, right?”  
  
“In scale, yes.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Kyuhyun said miserably, feeling his nails dig into the flesh of his palm.  
  
Siwon made a small shrug. “It wasn’t unexpected. And we’re bound to lose some anyway. No one can win all the time.”  
  
Kyuhyun bent his head lower. He could tell that Siwon didn’t really believe it himself. The man was used to winning and getting everything he set his eyes on. He had the entire world in his hand. If it hadn't been because of _him_ —  
  
That train of thought went off the rail when he felt Siwon leaning against him, head cushioned on his shoulder.  
  
“You’re right, I worked too hard lately. Definitely need to catch up on some sleep.”  
  
What followed was a long, petrified silence. Kyuhyun could not, _dared not_ , move even a muscle. His heart felt like it was trying to jump out of its cage—and when it didn’t succeed, it made such a ruckus inside his chest that he practically could hear nothing else for what felt like a stretch of eternity.  
  
“You’ll be more comfortable in your bed,” he finally managed to articulate past the heavy lump in his throat.  
  
Siwon’s only response was a noncommittal hum. Kyuhyun lapsed into another mute spell because nothing seemed to make sense anymore. They never touched like this. They kissed. They had sex. He did some flirting when he felt like it—and Siwon would indulge him when _he_ felt like it—but Kyuhyun knew very well how much the older man disliked unnecessary physical contact.  
  
This was new. This was a whole different kind of intimacy. He could feel Siwon pressed against him, weight all too real, puffs of warm breath caressing his neck. There wasn’t a hurried pace, or games of seduction, or a jumble of lustful sounds and ragged breaths. In their place was an endless breadth of time, shared warmth, and two hearts that beat too closely to each other for anything else to matter.  
  
“You smell good,” Siwon suddenly said.  
  
Kyuhyun could feel heat climbing up his neck and pooling in his cheeks. “I think it’s the soap,” he muttered.  
  
“Why are you so bad at taking compliments?” the older man murmured against his collarbone, amusement lacing his voice.  
  
“That wasn’t a compliment. You’re just saying it because you like making fun of me.”  
  
“I’m not,” Siwon told him, and then raised his head to catch Kyuhyun’s lips in a kiss. There was such gentleness in it that Kyuhyun couldn't help but press his eyes shut, heart thumping rebelliously in his chest. He suddenly felt very small and helpless. The proximity was bad enough, but Siwon's unusual tenderness scared him.  
  
He was a stranger to this. Never in his life had anyone treated him like he was the most precious thing in the world. And never in his life had he felt like he could sacrifice the entire world for the sake of seeing one person _smile_.  
  
“I've told you, you do smell good,” Siwon said again when they had parted, lips tracing the curve of his jaw.  
  
“Whatever,” Kyuhyun half-snapped, too embarrassed to raise his eyes. Siwon was grinning. He could feel it when the older man let his head fall once more to his shoulder.  
  
“I'm fine, don't worry.”  
  
He almost retorted with a brusque _I don’t worry_ , but the words died on the tip of his tongue. It was a stupid lie, he realised, and this thing between them didn’t deserve it. Not after his decision to stay—because _this_ was exactly why he chose to stay, this great, unknown thing that made him feel weak and helpless and yet so incredibly, ridiculously happy.  
  
It took all his bravery to lift his hand and touch the side of Siwon’s head, and then brush his lips against the thick mop of hair. But it was all worth it—because when he finally chanced a glance at Siwon’s face, the man was smiling.  
  
And it was all for him.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	9. Chapter 9

**09\. carving your name across my eyelids**

  


“No fucking way.”  
  
Siwon frowned. “We really have to do something with your mouth.”  
  
“I don’t want a fucking bodyguard,” Kyuhyun snapped, ignoring the older man’s comment.  
  
“And I will not give you one for such purposes.”  
  
He scowled. “You know what I mean.”  
  
“I hardly ever do,” Siwon replied dryly. “In any case, it’s already settled. Han Geng has arranged everything for you.”  
  
Kyuhyun now directed his glare to the silent man who was standing unobtrusively by the television set. The look he got in return was expressionless; certainly far from intimidated.  
  
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” he declared once more, this time to both men.  
  
“Actually you do,” Siwon replied.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it will take a lot off my mind.”  
  
Kyuhyun glowered fiercely because, hell, Siwon was using the one card he could never say no to. Becoming a heavier burden to the older man than he already was topped the list of things Kyuhyun wanted least.  
  
“There are credible grounds for threat,” Han Geng suddenly broke his silence, as if sensing an opening in Kyuhyun’s pause. “Nothing too serious, but better safe than sorry. Maybe you will have to tolerate some inconvenience in the future, but there is no reason why anybody else should know that you are under protection. We can be discreet.”  
  
“Don’t you think that my being followed around by a big burly guy will take care of the discreet part?” Kyuhyun shot back darkly.  
  
A faint smile came to Han Geng’s usually stoic face. “The good news is, one of our youngest personnel looks very young. In fact, he will have no trouble posing as a high school student.”  
  
Kyuhyun stared at the man in horror. “You're _kidding_ me.”  
  
But of course he wasn’t. Kyuhyun found himself being introduced to Lee Sungmin one minute later—and had to admit (even if only to himself) that Han Geng hadn’t been exaggerating. The baby face and less-than-average height were only the beginning of the package, as he would soon discover.  
  
“He will join your class as a transfer student,” Siwon said after they were done with introductions. “A new school year is just about to start, so it’s very convenient. And you don’t have to worry about people’s knowing.”  
  
Kyuhyun still had at least a hundred objections in his pocket. “But he can’t possibly follow me around everywhere I go. Classmate or not, it’ll look weird and… well, creepy!”  
  
Siwon’s lips twitched. “Actually, Sungmin here has come up with a very simple solution.”  
  
Their eyes met again and the young man offered him a smile. Kyuhyun hated to admit it, but except for the suit-and-tie, Lee Sungmin fit the description of a high school student even better than most of his classmates.  
  
“It’s just an idea of mine,” Sungmin explained, his tone modest. “I can play the part of a new transfer student who has a crush on you. Of course,” he added, now speaking to Siwon, “if it isn’t objectionable to you, sir.”  
  
“Not for this purpose, no,” Siwon replied—and damn if that wasn’t a smile on his face. Kyuhyun crossed his arms and glared. The world was clearly ganging up on him.  
  
“You’ve already discussed this between you all,” he accused, “so why bother asking me again?”  
  
“Because,” Siwon answered, holding his gaze, “if you really don’t want this, then I will not force you.”  
  
Kyuhyun really, _really_ didn’t want it, but Siwon’s tone of voice was making it hard for him to refuse. And then there was also all the trouble they had gone into, only to make this arrangement possible for him.  
  
“Do you really think this is necessary?” he finally asked with a sigh.  
  
“I don't know,” Siwon replied honestly. “But the last thing I want is for something bad to happen to you, knowing that I could have done more. So for a little while at least, until things have calmed down a bit, I want to make sure that you are safe. Will you allow me to do it?”  
  
Kyuhyun was sure that the heat rising to his cheeks had pretty much answered the question.  
  
  
—  
  
  
Introducing Sungmin to Changmin was a nightmare.  
  
“I’m going to dump this soda on your stupid head if you don’t stop laughing in three seconds.”  
  
The threat didn’t seem to have much effect on Changmin, who still had his face hidden in the fold of his arms, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Kyuhyun cursed his soft-heartedness and could only fume in silence until his best friend deigned to stop laughing and lift his head.  
  
“Hello, I'm Changmin,” he held his hand out to the third person at their table, still grinning like mad.  
  
Sungmin returned it with a more subdued but no less friendly smile, and soon they were chatting away like they had been the best of buddies all their lives. The topic mostly revolved around their mutual friend and how to make fun of him—which made Kyuhyun want to throw his fries at them. He seriously began to regret his decision to introduce the two.  
  
Still, it had never occurred to him not to tell his best friend about Sungmin. And so when Changmin had asked him—for probably the thousandth time—to meet him somewhere outside ( _"just for lunch, okay, it's not going to fucking kill you"_ ), Kyuhyun decided that he might as well get both over with, once and for all—and definitely before the school started, which was in two days.  
  
“So what’s he like to follow around?” Changmin was still talking gleefully. “A pain in the ass, right?”  
  
“A total pain in the ass,” Sungmin agreed, complete with a solemn nod and an exaggerated sigh.  
  
Kyuhyun made a face at them both. “If you two are done, I really want to get back to my StarCraft.”  
  
“Let’s just hit the arcade today,” Changmin told him. “It’s been a long time. And now that you have a bodyguard, maybe you can finally score one win against me.”  
  
Kyuhyun could feel his entire body go tense, although he tried his best to cover it. He hated the way Sungmin seemed to notice it anyway—eyebrows raised and shoulders squared. They hadn’t even known each other for a week now.  
  
“I’m not really in the mood,” he muttered, looking away and pretending to take a sip from his soda.  
  
“Oh, come on,” Changmin protested. “You can’t live under the rock the whole time.”  
  
“It’s not that,” he said evasively, but Changmin wasn’t his best friend for nothing.  
  
“Bullshit. I think it’s precisely that.”  
  
Kyuhyun glared at the other boy, who met the challenge head on. “We're starting school again in two days,” Changmin continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “What are you going to do then? Hiding behind my back from start to finish? Or maybe clinging to your bodyguard here?”  
  
Kyuhyun stood up abruptly. “I’m getting some ice cream,” he muttered, heading toward the counter and joining the short queue. He knew that it was either walking away or punching his friend in the face.  
  
It wasn’t as if he didn’t understand where Changmin came from. They both hated cowardice; it was one of the reasons why they clicked with each other so well. This time, however, Kyuhyun found himself against a wall too high for him to climb.  
  
And then something cold and wet hit his face.  
  
  
—  
  
  
He didn’t remember much of it, afterwards.  
  
Kyuhyun remembered a group of boys—couldn’t be older than fourteen, five or six of them, fleeing toward the door. He remembered Changmin lunging at their retreating backs, his scream of rage echoing in the suddenly silent fast-food place. He remembered an arm wrapped around his shock-still body, gently but persistently steering him away from the staring eyes, but only recognised it much later as Sungmin’s.  
  
They left in Changmin’s car. The drive back to his apartment was silent. Many, many times, Kyuhyun wanted to open his mouth but the words always fluttered out of his tongue’s reach just before he could utter them. From the backseat, he saw the way Changmin’s fingers were wrapped around the wheel, and almost laughed because he could already picture him on Monday, playing the part of an overprotective guard dog.  
  
A rush of affection swept over him. He would’ve reached over and hugged the other boy, but his arms were wet and sticky from the drying soda and cream (and who knows what else there had been in that concoction). He couldn’t imagine Changmin liking it at all.  
  
Which was why it surprised him very much to find himself engulfed in his best friend’s arms as soon as they had got out from the car.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Changmin said, sounding helpless and angry and desperate, all at the same time.  
  
Kyuhyun blinked and briefly wondered why his eyes felt warm all of a sudden. “For what?” he pushed the words past his lips, trying to sound as normal as possible.  
  
Changmin didn’t answer; instead, he said, “I can stay.”  
  
“No,” Kyuhyun muttered, shaking his head once. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.”  
  
“Like hell you–”  
  
“I want to play later,” he said again, the words muffled against Changmin’s shoulder. “Just meet me online, okay? I’ll be fine. I just want to be alone right now.”  
  
Changmin’s arms tightened around him. “You’ll call me?”  
  
“Yeah.” Kyuhyun raised his head and shot his friend a weak smile. It wasn’t a very convincing smile, but at least Changmin loosened his embrace.  
  
“Listen,” the taller boy spoke again, his tone serious, “I don’t care what my parents think. You’ll contact me if something happens, you understand?”  
  
Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “I’m not some weak helpless kid, Shim.”  
  
“I don’t give a damn, Cho. You. Call. Me.”  
  
“Fine,” Kyuhyun replied with a sigh, although he couldn’t quite suppress another brief smile pulling at the corners of his lips.  
  
Changmin let him go with a squeeze to his upper arm, and then returned to the car. Kyuhyun didn’t miss the hard stare he shot at Sungmin’s direction as they turned toward the building's entrance.  
  
The elevator ride upstairs to the penthouse was equally silent. Kyuhyun slipped into the bathroom as soon as he had unlocked the door. A hot shower, alone, was what he needed. He stood under the torrent of water for a long time, retreating into his head and letting his body do as it wished. He could barely feel the tears anyway.  
  
The water had turned cold when he finally left the shower, wrapped in huge, fluffy towels that smelled like Siwon. To his displeasure, Sungmin was still there, sitting in the sofa in the living room and obviously waiting for him.  
  
“I thought I stopped being your problem at the doorstep,” Kyuhyun muttered as he walked past into his bedroom. He grabbed a few pieces of random clothes from an unsorted pile on his bed and shrugged them on, all the while formulating plans to kick Sungmin out of the apartment in his head. When he turned around, however, the young man was already standing in front of the door.  
  
“Let’s just say that no one has specified which doorstep that is,” Sungmin pointed out. His smile was small, hesitant, and it waned easily. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I should have seen–”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Kyuhyun interrupted. He simply didn’t want to think anymore. “Just don’t tell anyone about this,” he added, almost pleaded. “Especially Siwon.”  
  
“I will if he asks,” Sungmin said at once. “He’s the boss.”  
  
Kyuhyun frowned. “Your job is to protect me, right?”  
  
“Yes, but he’s the boss.”  
  
“But you’re protecting me.”  
  
“And he’s the one who pays me.”  
  
Kyuhyun almost screamed, but did not. “Fine, I’ll make a deal with you,” he said through clenched teeth, sitting up straighter, and held Sungmin's gaze. “I promise that your life will be easier if you don’t tell anyone about all this. Because if you do, then I’ll make your job an absolute hell. I’ll run away. I’ll pick fights. I’ll cause problems. I’ll do many, _many_ stupid things, you can count on it.”  
  
Sungmin raised his eyebrows. “I’m a trained professional. Sure you can give me trouble, kid?”  
  
“I know I’ll try my best,” Kyuhyun retorted, his voice hard. Sungmin was no longer smiling. They watched each other through narrowed eyes, neither wanting to back down.  
  
In the end, it was Sungmin who broke away first and sighed.  
  
“I won’t report this one,” he said, tone resigned. “But if it escalates into something worse, then I will. He deserves to know.”  
  
Kyuhyun nodded tightly. Sungmin gave him one last pointed look and then retreated, closing the door behind him. Kyuhyun released the breath he had been holding. Now alone in the silent room, he could practically hear the thoughts swirling in his head, getting louder and louder. He jumped out of bed and sat in front of his laptop, and spent the next three hours gaming so he didn’t have to think.  
  
Until there was a knock on his door.  
  
Kyuhyun flew out of the chair, everything else immediately forgotten, and found Siwon standing in front of his door, smiling at him. Balanced on his right hand was a large box of pizza—and on top of it, a large carton of chocolate fudge ice cream.  
  
“Hungry?”  
  
Kyuhyun suddenly felt like crying. He had to literally clench his teeth and ball his hands into fists to stop himself from embracing the older man. Still, something must have shown in his face; Siwon’s smile gained an edge of concern and his free hand rose to touch the side of Kyuhyun’s chin.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing.” Kyuhyun quickly shook his head and took the pizza box from Siwon’s hand before escaping toward the kitchen. It was only later, when they had settled in the couch with a movie playing in the large TV, half of the pizza already gone, that Kyuhyun let himself touch the older man—even if it was only under the pretext of feeding him ice cream.  
  
“Oh come on, you’re not going to get fat just because of a few spoons of ice cream.”  
  
“ _You_ are not going to get fat because of a few spoons of ice cream—and what we’re eating is nowhere near _few_ , by the way. I’m not nearly as lucky.”  
  
Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “Stop being such a health freak for one night.”  
  
“Already did,” Siwon pointed out, glancing at the leftover pizza.  
  
“Just one more.” Kyuhyun raised another spoonful, a full mound filled with chocolate-y goodness. “For me?”  
  
Siwon snorted but finally opened his mouth, a grin threatening around the edges. Kyuhyun smiled triumphantly, but before he could set the near-empty carton down on the coffee table, Siwon had already pulled him into his arms.  
  
“Now be quiet and watch the movie.”  
  
Kyuhyun obeyed—mostly because he suddenly felt weak, all his pretences crumbling down fast. As he pressed one cheek against the warmth of Siwon’s shoulder, eyes blurring a little, he knew that he didn’t care. They could throw anything to his face and he wouldn’t care. They could call him whatever names they wanted, accuse him of every filthy things they thought he had done—but for the moment, he just wanted to stay here, like this, with this man.  
  
Because only when Siwon held him like this that he felt truly alive.  
  
  
 ** _End_**  
  
  
---


	10. Chapter 10

**10\. sundown (part 1)**

 

Among so many problems competing for his attention at the moment, the birthday cards were foremost in Siwon’s mind.

More precisely, the amount of birthday cards he was receiving this year. Being the chairman and CEO of one of Asia’s largest electronics company, birthdays for him meant an avalanche of formal birthday cards bearing impersonal messages and unfamiliar signatures, followed by a lavish birthday party arranged by his worthy secretary in which he would stay for an hour or two exchanging smiles and accepting congratulations.

Last year, Zhou Mi’s desk had practically been invisible under the pile of such cards, each catalogued and cross-checked against the list of their business partners and acquaintances.

This year, the amount barely covered half of the desk.

It was a seemingly trivial problem, but Siwon’s mind insisted on dwelling on it. There were always portents to read from the simplest aberrations and the eternally critical part of his brain never hesitated in pointing them out.

The decreasing number of birthday cards could only mean one thing.

“Siwon?”

The gentle, inquiring voice pulled him out of his reverie. Siwon raised his eyes and met the mildly curious gaze of Park Jungsoo, his Vice Chairman. The older man had been in the middle of an argument with his eccentric Chief Designer Kim Heechul, the third person in the room, when Siwon’s attention had drifted elsewhere.

“My apologies.” He forced a smile to his lips. “You were saying that to release a new luxury design in the near future was an unwise move?”

“Yes,” Jungsoo picked up without missing a beat. “The luxury phones are just that—a luxury. It’s a statement, nothing more. Considering our present circumstances, I think it’s better if we put more effort into the ones for general public.”

“It’s _precisely_ because of our present circumstances,” Heechul had cut in before Siwon could respond. “When you’re down, do you hang your head low? No. You hold you head high and stare down the world as best as you can. And that’s why we need, as you called it, a _statement_.”

Jungsoo frowned. “It might work in theory, but when you take the production cost into calculation–”

“I bring some examples of the new models,” Heechul interrupted, hands already reaching into the leather bag at his feet. “Look at them first, and then tell me that we don’t need this sort of statement.”

Whatever his personal opinion of Kim Heechul, Siwon knew that there was virtually no expectation he could make which Heechul wouldn’t be able to meet—or, as often to be the case, even surpass. For this reason, he was barely surprised when two fully functional prototypes were deposited on the conference table. They were identical, all smooth curves and sleek surface with delicate, almost invisible lines forming a beautiful, elaborate design on the back. One had a single diamond embedded in its fine, elegant blackness. Another was of the colour of deep burgundy, with an octagonal pink diamond as its centrepiece.

“I’ve made about four each,” Heechul spoke again, satisfaction clear in his voice. “They have _all_ of our new improvements and they work perfectly—already test drive them for a month myself. Now my idea is this: choose one you like better and bring it to your party tonight and let every single guest who comes to congratulate you stare and salivate over it. You’re our best walking advertisement anyway.”

“Under normal circumstances,” Siwon replied with a faint smile.

Heechul shrugged. The plight of their company, from his point of view, was nothing compared to the genius of an exquisite design. “I still think it’ll work. You can use the phone for several days as you go to meetings and parties. Just let people ogle at it. Then we’ll announce the limited sale in the next three weeks, just a month before the release our next generation of smartphones. That way we can come back with a bang.”

Siwon did not reply immediately. True, it could be an opportunity. It could also be a useless step. Either way, the decreasing number of his birthday cards—always his mind would return to this—could only mean that less and less people cared to maintain a good relationship with him. Even if he tried to ignore the hint, a clearer and far more obvious proof was present in their sales report, which had been steadily declining in the last two months.

Notoriety was a powerful poison. Siwon smiled grimly. Clearly he had made a miscalculation as to how much his reputation could affect the stability of his company.

Still, to lead and to succeed was what he had been groomed for. It would take a lot more than one misstep to break him.

“Four each, did you say?” Siwon finally said, his fingers scrolling through pages of applications. “And they’re all ready and functional?”

“As I live and breathe,” Heechul answered solemnly.

“Then,” Siwon put the phone back on the table and held the other man’s gaze, “if I were to say that I want six out of those eight tonight, complete with manuals and different initials each, would you be able to deliver?”

“Of course.” Heechul’s smirk was sharply victorious. “Each in a velvet box with gold trimmings even.”

Siwon nodded. “Have them delivered to Zhou Mi’s desk before five.”

“I’ll get down to it immediately.” The Chief Designer rose and left the meeting room without so much as a backward glance. Now left alone only with Jungsoo, Siwon had no choice but to acknowledge the older man’s raised eyebrows.

“What do you have in mind?”

Siwon shrugged and leaned back into his seat. “Just a little idea of mine. How to make a statement and look good doing it—that sort of thing. And since those phones are ready, we might as well use them,”

There were many reasons why Park Jungsoo was the Vice Chairman of the company, and one of them was his professional ability to pick up Siwon’s thread of thought faster than anyone else in the business. Right now was no exception.

“You want to give them as gifts,” he concluded, a note of wonder creeping into his voice.

“We’ll choose six names from our list of business partners who will come to the party tonight—six most useful and most valuable—and give them a phone each,” Siwon explained further. “But it must be done discreetly and carefully, so I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to do it. The statement cannot come from me, and among the rest, you know best what to say to make them feel flattered without sacrificing our position, especially during delicate times like these.”

“It could be for nothing, you know,” Jungsoo warned, a frown still marring his forehead.

“I know, but there is no harm in trying. We’ll gauge the reaction from tonight’s party and if it’s favourable enough, we’ll go on with the limited release as Heechul said.”

“And the production cost?”

“I’ll handle it,” Siwon answered steadily. At this point, he had used nearly half of his own private savings to keep the company afloat and maintain its appearance. A little more wouldn’t hurt much. He had inherited this powerful empire, so carefully built and nurtured by his grandfather and parents. With nearly ten thousand employees depending on him, it was his responsibility to see that the company would survive—especially now that he had put it all in jeopardy for a reason as foolish as _one boy_.

The thought weighed heavily in his mind. Sometimes Siwon did wonder—if, what if, what if not. For there was a limit on how much a person could take before he turned against the very reason he was fighting for.

His limit could be close, or it could be far away still. He did not particularly want to find out.

“So which six of them?” Jungsoo spoke again, his tone resigned.

Siwon was about to reply when a knock came to the door and Zhou Mi peeked in, his expression troubled.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said cautiously, eyes fixed on Siwon, “but there’s a phone call for you.”

Siwon frowned at his secretary. “I’ve told you to field every call until I’m done with this meeting.”

“Yes, but,” Zhou Mi took a deep breath, “it’s the Metropolitan Police. Something’s happened to Kyuhyun.”

 

-

 

The boy looked like he had been running through hell.

He was sitting in a plastic chair like so many other plastic chairs in the police headquarters. His hair was in total disarray and his school uniform was rumpled and stained with dirt and mud-splatters. Siwon’s eyes were fixed on him as soon as he walked into the cluttered office.

This was the first time he had met Shim Changmin face-to-face.

Kyuhyun had mentioned his name many, many times. After the fourth time ‘Changmin’ had appeared in their conversation, Siwon had decided to have Han Geng find out everything he could about this supposed best-friend of his charge.

The results were mostly acceptable. Shim Changmin came from a good, ordinary family. His father worked in a large publishing company while his mother was an elementary school teacher. He had two younger sisters and seemed to be just as addicted to online games as Kyuhyun was. The two had been friends since junior high, and halfway into reading the minute details of their history (served in bullet points by the neat, meticulous Han Geng), Siwon realised that Changmin was _the_ reason Kyuhyun hadn’t wandered off to worse paths of life in the last few years.

The exact same boy now jumped to his feet, exposing his startling height, and pointed a finger at Siwon.

“ _You_.” There was so much hostility in his voice and expression that Siwon was taken aback for a moment. “I knew it had something to do with you. Now you’ll fucking get him back. I don’t care what you do, just GET HIM BACK.”

The police officer who had been sitting across the cluttered desk stood up and grabbed the boy’s shoulder, sternly ordering him to sit down. Walking round the desk, he approached Siwon and introduced himself as Inspector Jung Yunho.

Siwon sat himself in the remaining empty chair, ignoring Changmin’s vicious glares. He listened numbly as Inspector Jung gave him a brief overview of the situation. The abduction, as he called it, took place about an hour ago and now his team was running point for the investigation.

“Mr Shim here,” he nodded at Changmin, “witnessed the event. According to his account, they were stopping at a convenience store on their way to a _hagwon_ when a car pulled over just in front of the store. Mr Shim was still inside and the young man whom I understand was assigned by you to guard Mr Cho was incapacitated by a gunshot—I’m sorry, _two_ shots—and then Mr Cho was wrestled into the car.”

“I see,” Siwon heard himself say. A distant part of his mind briefly wondered why Kyuhyun had never told him about going to a _hagwon_. Another part vaguely registered Han Geng’s stepping out of the room for a moment, most likely to obtain some information about Sungmin’s condition—but the rest, those which hadn’t been numbed the explanation, were busy sorting through a list of possible suspects.

Kyuhyun’s family was out of the question. They were perfectly happy to pretend that the boy didn’t exist. And Kyuhyun was only a high school boy. It was impossible for any sort of teenage rivalry or adolescent quarrel to end in an abduction.

Which only left _his_ list of enemies.

“I wasn’t quick enough,” Changmin suddenly spoke up, his voice trembling with too much emotion. “They took him. Just like that. I didn’t even remember the plate. Just an old, dirty, black Hyundai sedan.”

“We have spread the information out to every officer on duty,” Inspector Jung said. “We are doing everything we can, but there is another reason why we've asked you to come in, Mr Choi.”

Then he pushed the evidence bag which had been lying on top of several stacked folders toward Siwon. Inside the bag were a white envelope and a birthday card with a large smiley face and a splash of red _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_.

Siwon’s heart stopped.

“This was left on the crime scene,” the inspector spoke again. “As you can see from the envelope, it’s addressed to you.”

Putting on a pair of latex gloves, he reached into the bag to retrieve card. Then he unfolded it, displaying the inside of the card. In the very middle of the empty white page was a malicious scrawl in blue pen.

_Enjoy your birthday gift. I’ll enjoy the boy._

 

–

 

“Are you okay?”

Siwon turned, startled. He hadn’t even heard Zhou Mi’s approach. The other man stepped to his side, concern written all over his face.

Siwon didn’t answer. Instead, he let his gaze drift back beyond the glass into the hospital room, at the figure lying unconscious in the bed.

“Look at him,” he said quietly, his voice sounding strange even to his ears. “Two bullets to the chest and he was still hanging on to the car’s door, trying to hold them back. Then they kicked him in the face and broke his leg and stepped on him like trash. Wouldn’t have let them go if he hadn’t passed out from the pain.”

Zhou Mi’s hand reached for his shoulder, offering small comfort. “Any news yet?”

“None,” Siwon said dully, eyes still fixed on Sungmin’s half-curled hand. This wasn’t the first time that a member of Han Geng’s team had got hurt while doing their job. Han Geng himself had more than a few scars to attest to it.

This was, however, the first time that it had been _this_ bad. The wounds were not lethal, the doctor had explained. The patient would recover in due time—but he would never run again.

Siwon wondered if any amount of money could ever compensate for that loss.

“Should we cancel the party?” Zhou Mi asked gently.

Siwon closed his eyes, the pounding in his head worsening. He needed to focus. There were too many problems demanding his attention, but the dull throb in his chest just wouldn’t stop. Constantly reminding him.

A psychological campaign, Inspector Jung had called it. The card was clearly a taunt. Whoever did this wanted him to suffer, so much until he went mad with worry. The not knowing was certainly part of the plan.

“No,” he replied after a deep breath. “We’ll go with it as planned.”

Zhou Mi nodded and departed again after a squeeze to his shoulder. Then Siwon turned toward Han Geng.

“Find him,” he said grimly. “That is your order now. Use every manpower you have. Use every resource in the company because I’m putting _everything_ at your disposal. Use that tracking program they’re developing in the Research Department. Tell every programmer and hacker working there to work for you. Cooperate with the police if you must. I don’t care what you do. Just _find him_.”

“Yes, sir,” was Han Geng’s solemn, quiet reply. He didn’t question the order, for which Siwon was grateful. At this point, he no longer cared if none of his friends or subordinates understood why he would go to such great lengths for a boy who, for all intent and purposes, was neither related nor useful to him.

Kyuhyun was important. For whatever reason, he was important for him.

 

–

 

The party was a glorious affair, as usual.

Colourful dresses and smart tuxedoes and glittering jewelleries crowded the ballroom of the five-star hotel. A chamber orchestra supplied the music as drinks and a hundred choices of delicacies shifted from silver dishes and serving trays to available plates and glasses before finally ending in many eagerly waiting mouths. The guests were duly impressed, at both the celebration and the ‘new’ phone carried around by the man of the day (now with his initial flaunted on the back in small, delicate letters).

Siwon endured hours of smiling and making small talks, all too aware that he had to put more effort than usual and be nice to his associates. He usually found the process mind-numbing, but right now, it was downright excruciating. His worry kept gnawing on him, like sharp nails on raw flesh, and he couldn’t help but wonder if one of these politely smiling guests was actually responsible for the abduction—and they were now inwardly laughing at him, enjoying his misery under the mask of an honoured guest.

It was this thought which in the end kept the smile on his face. Siwon made sure to greet everyone (Zhou Mi at his side with a ready repertoire of names and details) and mention a few appropriate words at an appropriate time. Jungsoo, he noticed every now and then, performed a similar function at a different part of the room. If the Vice Chairman had noticed anything amiss, then so far he still kept it to himself. Jungsoo played his role to perfection as usual, making rounds among notable guests and filling every gap which Siwon had, intentionally or unintentionally, left open.

Two hours into the party—and still there was no news. Siwon checked his phone every ten minutes or so. Three times he had sent Han Geng a message and the answer never once differed. _Nothing so far._

Halfway into the third hour, Zhou Mi finally laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “You should go back.”

Siwon immediately turned, heart pounding in his chest. “You have news?” he asked quickly.

Zhou Mi’s expression was caught somewhere between pained and sympathetic. “No, but you need rest. There’s no use staying here. Most of the important guests have already left.”

Siwon frowned, ready to argue when exhaustion suddenly ambushed him out of nowhere. Only then did he remember that he had been standing for more than three hours with very little food going into his system.

“Come on.” Zhou Mi’s hand was steady on his shoulder. “We’ll take your car and I’ll drive you home”

“You don’t have to,” Siwon said automatically.

Zhou Mi shot him a look. “I’m not going to crash your Ferrari,” he deadpanned, firmly guiding him out of the ballroom. “And I can easily take a cab back home, so don’t worry. I’ll claim the expense too.

That, at least, pricked a smile on Siwon’s lips. He let the other man do everything he said, silently grateful to have someone who had known him as long as Zhou Mi had. Three hours of pretending to be fine and happy while he had been anything but had left him beyond exhausted.

In the car, he sent another message to Han Geng-only to receive the exact same answer twenty seconds later.

Siwon made the quick calculation in his head. It was now ten hours since the abduction. He didn’t have to be Inspector Jung to know what the odds were.

“I gave Geng a list of your business associates,” Zhou Mi suddenly said, “and basically everyone you might have dealt with, either personally or professionally. The one who did this must be someone you know, so I don't know, it might just help.”

“Good,” Siwon murmured, staring listlessly at the speeding light outside his window. He couldn’t stop thinking about statistics—how most abduction cases didn’t end well, often with the victims dead, if found at all. But the idea of Kyuhyun’s death was so abhorrent that his mind simply refused to even consider it. It was foolish to entertain these morbid thoughts, he scolded himself. Besides, this was no ordinary abduction case; Kyuhyun wasn’t even the real target.

Neither of them spoke again until they arrived at Siwon’s apartment building.

“Try to get some sleep,” Zhou Mi finally broke his silence, just before Siwon left the car. “Geng already promised that he’d call you as soon as he had something, so let him do his job and don’t worry about it too much.”

Siwon shot the other man a wan smile, along with a small muttered thank you. He genuinely appreciated the advice, but like any other advice, it was easier said than done.

Because as soon as he stepped into the penthouse, Siwon knew that he was in for a long, horrible night. The emptiness struck him as sharply as a blade. Worst of all, he knew that there was nothing but silence and darkness waiting for him beyond the door.

Kyuhyun didn’t always greet him home, especially if the hour was late, but it wasn’t until now that Siwon realised, it was the _knowledge_ that mattered the most. There were days when he did not quite realise that Kyuhyun was there—but the knowledge, the barely-there awareness that the boy was sleeping in the second bedroom, brought him a kind of peace which he had always taken for granted.

Simply the fact that he was _there_ had made such a world of difference.

Siwon didn’t know how long he sat in the couch staring at nothing, mind drifting aimlessly to every spectrum of what-if's (what if they did something to Kyuhyun, what if Kyuhyun got badly hurt because of him, what if Kyuhyun ended up _dead_ , what if what if what if).

He only stirred when his phone beeped once, signalling an incoming message. Siwon quickly fished it out of his pocket. The message came from an unknown number—and there was an image attached to it.

Even before the image had finished loading, Siwon already knew what he would find.

What he didn’t expect was the awful mix of horror and agony gripping his heart when the picture of Kyuhyun’s face, all bruised and blotted with dirt and blood and tears, stared back at him from his phone screen.

**_End_ **


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strongly urge everyone to read the previous chapter again because this one follows it very closely. So sorry for the long wait :(

 

**11\. sundown (part 2)**

 

Han Geng arrived about ten minutes later.

 

The interval gave Siwon just enough time to collect himself and hide every hint of panic and distress behind a secure mask. The man who came to the door and met Han Geng showed not even a single chink in his armour.

 

The head of security took one look at the attached picture and quickly proceeded to work with his usual efficiency. “With your permission, sir, I will share this image with several members of my team,” he said after sending a copy of the message to his own tablet.

 

Siwon swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding. “Do what you must.”

 

“As for the police…” Han Geng hesitated.

 

“I’d rather keep this among us for now,” Siwon said quickly. Han Geng and his team were bad enough, but at least they were his people and he knew better than to doubt their discretion. The idea of allowing anyone else to see the picture, however, was too much. “If it gets worse— _only_ if it gets worse, then we will involve them. But I do hope that you can find whoever's behind this without having to take that step.”

 

Han Geng bowed and took his leave immediately. Once the other man was gone, Siwon released a shaky breath that he had unconsciously been holding. Somehow, playing pretend had become five times harder. He was glad to be left alone once more. Solitude, as always, was his best friend.

 

For about five seconds or so.

 

Because it did not take long for the silence to turn heavy, ominous and oppressive. Soon, it was weaving nightmares out of nothing. Each soundless tick of second was an empty space ready for the worst conjectures—and for all his wealth and status and authority, he found himself a helpless prey to them all.

 

Siwon hated it. The slow burn of frustration was now turning into anger. It used to be different. Being alone, handling pressure and problems alone—that was what he did, even since childhood. And everything had worked out fine.

 

Then Kyuhyun came into his life and turned everything upside down.

 

Kyuhyun had changed him. In a way, Kyuhyun had made him weak. Dependent. Almost vulnerable.

 

And Siwon hated it.

 

 

–

 

 

The second message arrived at 3:47 A.M.

 

This one, he noticed with a sickening lurch in his stomach, had an audio file attached.

 

 

–

 

 

Yunho received the phone call at five in the morning.

 

Having just gone to bed two hours before, it took him a while to remember who the hell Han Geng was; but once he had made the connection, his mind kick-started right away into overdrive. He jumped out of his bed, splashed some water to his face, and raced five floors down from his flat to the parking lot, all the way barking into the phone to wake the rest of his team.

 

It took him only a little over fifteen minutes to arrive at Choi Siwon’s penthouse. A man in a black suit and tie let him in—a member of the famous Choi security squad, Yunho surmised in a glance. The military bearing was unmistakable.

 

“This way, sir.” The man led him into a spacious room two times the size of his flat. Choi Siwon was standing at the far side, in front of a large window that gave a view of the entire city.

 

“So they’ve made contact with you twice?” Yunho demanded as soon as he had bridged the distance between them, for once completely dispensing with politeness.

 

“Yes, twice,” the man answered, his tone betraying his exhaustion. “From two different numbers, both registered under false identities. Show him.” He nodded at Han Geng, who handed Yunho an obviously pricey, custom-made phone.

 

Yunho scrolled down the display and quickly found the messages in question. The image file already made him grit his teeth, but it was the recording that brought his blood to boiling point. The pained, terrified screams echoed in the suddenly silent room, conjuring nightmare shadows out of thin air.

 

Hands trembling slightly, Yunho took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the message details. “The first one, the one with the picture, arrived about five hours ago?” he demanded to no one in particular.

 

“Yes.” It was Han Geng who replied.

 

Yunho fixed his eyes on Choi Siwon’s expressionless face. “Then I guess my question is, why did no one tell us about this five hours ago?”

 

“I did not feel it necessary at that time,” was the stiff, almost haughty answer.

 

Yunho found himself exercising his entire reserve of self-restraint not to punch the proud man in the face. “If this is the extent of your cooperation, Mr Choi,” he growled, anger pushing the words out of his mouth, “I cannot help but wonder if it's really your intention to find him.”

 

There was a moment of tense silence, as if the entire world was holding their breath, suspended on any flicker of reaction from Siwon. Yunho could almost _see,_ how every layer of formality vanish without a trace from the other man’s face, replaced by a hailstorm of fury. The cold, crippling kind that sent ice down his spine.

 

“Say that again,” Siwon said, his voice crawling with threats.

 

Yunho did not blink, ready to meet the challenge head on.

 

“Sir.”

 

He inhaled sharply when Han Geng suddenly stepped forward, coming between his boss and the police inspector. “I don't mean to interfere,” his voice was calm but firm, effectively cutting into the crackling friction, “but surely finding Kyuhyun is our priority right now.”

 

It was with some considerable difficulty but Yunho finally managed to bring the sharp flares of his emotions under control. “My team will analyse both files,” he said briskly, his tone once more a cloak of professionalism. “And then I suggest that we compare our findings, just in case there is something one side has missed.”

 

Siwon’s nod was no less formal. “That will be advisable.”

 

“And I will also need your permission as his guardian–”

 

“I’m not his guardian.” The interruption came suddenly, almost brusquely. “That is, not legally.”

 

Yunho frowned, but forced himself to choke back every biting, prejudiced comment that lurked on his tongue. His function here wasn’t to be a moral police. There were more pressing matters at hand.

 

“But he’s living in this condo with you,” he continued neutrally.

 

“That is correct.”

 

“Then I will need your permission to search the premises.”

 

Siwon looked at him, eyes empty, shoulders sagging as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Do what you have to do,” was his only reply.

 

Yunho set to work at once after sending the files to the rest of his team. He started with Kyuhyun’s room, frowning when he saw the meticulous neatness that was so atypical of a teenage boy’s room. In fact, it held all the signature of another’s meddling. Yunho suppressed a small sting of irritation. He could easily imagine Han Geng, and maybe some of the men in black suits outside, combing through the place with military efficiency in a similar quest for clues.

 

But the damage was done. Sullenly, he approached the desk that filled one corner of the room, eyes briefly skimming over the neat row of high school text books. A laptop and a printer took up the rest of the space. No doubt both had also been given thorough scrutiny. Without much hope, he opened the laptop.

 

The sight of colourful post-it notes scattered along the border of the display was a punch to his chest. The scribbled notes were of schedules, homework, phone numbers, IP address—things any normal high school student cared about. For the first moment since he had been assigned to the case, Yunho realised, _completely_ realised, that this was a teenage boy whom he was looking for. One who had gone through a lot. One who was perhaps not all that different from his younger sister.

 

Standing there, hands fisted as he stared at the blank laptop screen, Yunho swore he would find the boy.

 

 

–

 

 

The next morning was surreal for Siwon, and not unlike a nightmare.

 

He had retreated into his study as soon as possible, leaving Han Geng to deal with Inspector Jung and his team. At six, Zhou Mi arrived with breakfast and a double shot espresso, both of which he unceremoniously dumped on Siwon’s desk.

 

“You look like death,” he declared, sternly if not unkindly. “Eat.”

 

Siwon sighed but reached into the paper bag for a still-warm croissant to humour his friend. Zhou Mi did not ask about the messages; instead, he settled in an empty chair and proceeded to deal with today’s schedule on his tablet, occasionally consulting Siwon on a particular subject or appointment.

 

Nibbling on the pastry, Siwon idly wondered about all the things he had on his schedule today—and his mind reeled as the result. He could feel a headache forming just above his eyes. His thoughts were unfocused, scattered, the gaps between them filled with the echo of Kyuhyun’s screams.

 

Kyuhyun. His _dear_ Kyuhyun.

 

“He attends a _hagwon,_ ” Siwon heard himself say abruptly, escaping from that line of thought. “Do you know that?”

 

There was a pause before Zhou Mi answered, “Yes, Sungmin mentioned it to me once when they came to the office. He’s in his final year of high school. It’s only natural.”

 

Siwon felt a bitter smile on his lips, but even his angry disappointment felt far, aimless. “Clearly I’m the only one who doesn’t know anything about it,” he declared flatly. “No one—even _he_ didn’t bother to tell me.”

 

“You know what your boy’s like,” Zhou Mi’s voice held a trace of exasperation. “Always wants to look tough in front of everyone. And he hates bothering you.”

 

Siwon made no reply. Indeed how well, oh but how _well_ did he know. The first and only time Kyuhyun had fallen sick, the boy had decided to lock himself in his room, pretending that he was studying for tests. Siwon wouldn’t have given the excuse a second thought if not for the fact that he had come home with a takeout of Kyuhyun’s favourite food and found that it failed to yield even a peek from the door.

 

The incident ended in a hospital and a silent, miserable Kyuhyun; it also spoke volumes about the kind of regard the boy held for himself. Which was why Siwon didn’t find it surprising when the police told him that they had contacted Kyuhyun’s family and received only a cold response so far.

 

“Do you want to stay at home today?”

 

Zhou Mi’s sudden question pulled him out of his brown study. Siwon glanced up—and almost flinched at the palpable kindness he saw in his friend’s face.

 

“I’ve tried switching your schedules around a bit,” Zhou Mi continued. “We can actually push your appointments today to later times. None is in desperate need of your attention, and in any case, Jungsoo will be around if there are some executive decisions to be made.”

 

“No,” Siwon said decisively. “I’m going to the office.”

 

Zhou Mi’s expression turned resigned, but he said nothing and only nodded. They both knew just how crucial these few weeks were for the company. His absence from the helm would be too great a risk and could well result in a disaster.

 

Not to mention that Siwon knew he would go mad if he had to spend the day sitting around waiting for developments. He would rather brave a morning of lengthy, convoluted meetings and fighting wave after wave of nausea while dealing with his Heavy Industries Division, and afterwards the Electronics Division. At noon, he swallowed two or three spoonful of soup, and then spent the rest of the lunch hour talking to one of his directors about a new venture. The afternoon was filled with more strategy meetings and listening to discouraging reports and making decisions he would rather not make under better circumstances.

 

In short, he crammed everything he could into his timetable that he virtually had no time to breathe properly, let alone think about Kyuhyun.

 

And still that part of the world caught up with him.

 

Another message arrived at 4:26 P.M. and Siwon listened, in the deathly quiet of his office, the audio file that came with it. Specifically tailored just for him.

 

Because scattered amidst Kyuhyun’s sobs and raspy breaths were ghosts of his name.

 

 

–

 

 

Yunho was beyond furious.

 

There was supposed to be a line, even in the insanity and depravity of a criminal mind. Using another human being, a mere teenage boy, to make a point was pretty much _sick_ all across the spectrum.

 

He had to wonder what Choi Siwon had done to become the object of so much hate—and then quickly rebuked himself for even allowing that thread of thought to slip in. His duty was to find the boy, not to judge.

 

Unfortunately, there had been very little progress so far. He and his team had spent sleepless nights trying to decipher even the smallest noises from both audio files. They had visited and revisited the scene of the kidnapping, in hope of discovering something that they had missed the first, second, third time around. They had followed every promising lead which had cropped out of the list of business associates Choi Siwon might have offended in one way or another. The list was so impossibly long that it could have covered the walls of Yunho’s apartment with some length to spare.

 

After the third message, he had decided to join Han Geng in their command centre—a _much_ better facility than the police headquarters, to Yunho’s chagrin. These people, he had discovered from the moment they had decided on cooperation, had the manpower _and_ the technology. They wouldn’t have bothered to involve the police if not for the fact they needed a quick access to the government database to help with the search.

 

Still, even with all the avalanche of advantages, their side had trekked the same path numerous times and was no more successful. Yunho couldn’t say that it gave him any consolation.

 

“They could run a war from this room,” one member of his team, Kim Hyoyeon, said under her breath. She was operating a powerful workstation that was running a sound recognition program. It was analysing the sound of a train which they had managed to extract earlier, calculated against intensity and possible distance in concurrence with the interference of Doppler Effect.

 

Looking at all the equipment around him, Yunho was forced to agree. “Not that it’s doing us much good so far,” he couldn’t help but add.

 

A troubled look stole over Hyoyeon’s features. “It’s already been three days.”

 

“This is clearly a campaign to torture Choi Siwon,” Yunho said grimly. “As long as the boy still serves his purpose as a hostage, he will be kept alive.”

 

She grimaced. “Makes me sick thinking that the only reason why he’s still alive is so he can scream when they torture him.”

 

“‘He’,” Yunho corrected her. “Not ‘they’.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“The message in the birthday card. _I’ll enjoy the boy._ ‘I’, not ‘we’. It’s a guess, but I think this person’s working alone.”

 

She shot him an incredulous look. “You really think this is the work of one person?”

 

Yunho shrugged. “It’s not impossible. And there’s something else. This sort of abduction is usually followed by a specific demand, for either money or something else. If the motive is really revenge, they won’t be satisfied with just this. So where is the demand?”

 

“Maybe they want to up the ante by prolonging the torture?”

 

Yunho said nothing. He knew that he was counting on a ransom demand to throw some light upon the matter. If it didn’t happen, they their only hope lay in the minuscule chance that the perpetrator would commit so gross a mistake as to use the same number twice—which he had failed to do so far.

 

This person was careful. He wanted this to last as long as possible.

 

A phone rang. Yunho whipped his head up, just in time to see Han Geng answering the call.

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

The whole room had fallen silent, all eyes fixed on Han Geng’s carefully expressionless face. Yunho suppressed an urge to rip the phone out of the man’s hand and listened for himself.

 

But then Han Geng glanced at him—and Yunho _knew_ at once. Their feet moved at the same time and they both were already out of the doors before the call ended.

 

“Mr Choi received a call on his business phone,” Han Geng told him as they rushed out of the building. “It’s them.”

 

“Him,” Yunho muttered under his breath, jumping into his car.

 

 

–

 

 

One phone call at a little over eleven, followed by another three minutes later—both filled with the sound of Kyuhyun crying and screaming.

 

Siwon was sure he would never forget that sound for the rest of his life.

 

Now, every time his phone rang, his heart leapt to his throat. Siwon reached for the device, fingers shaking so badly that it slipped out of his grasp. When he finally answered, he could barely hear anything past the cacophony made by his heartbeat.

 

It took him ten seconds to realise that it was only Jungsoo’s voice talking to him over the line.

 

“…as if they knew that we would begin the promotion today–”

 

For a long time, the words fell on deaf ears. With Jungsoo’s voice echoing emptily in his ears, Siwon sat in the creeping darkness of his apartment, silent tears running down his cheeks.

 

It was the sixth day.

 

 

–

 

 

Yunho didn’t know how long he had been sitting at this desk.

 

Spread all before him was Choi Siwon’s massive contact list. They had started once more from the beginning, this time taking no chances with educated guesses. Everyone must be considered, their backgrounds crosschecked and source of misgivings established. Only those who could provide themselves with a solid alibi during the time of the phone calls would be cleared from suspicion.

 

It was a hard, tedious job—not to mention nearly hopeless, but Yunho had no other choice. His head ached, his eyes hurt, and there was literally no single part in his body that did not protest at this continuing abuse as he spent hours making call after call.

 

But he persisted. In fact, he was so absorbed in the job that he didn’t realise that someone was standing in front of him until a hand touched the corner of his desk.

 

Yunho looked up, finding Han Geng frowning down at him.

 

“I have a question.”

 

The tone of voice he used made Yunho sit up straighter. “Yes?”

 

“If I suggest that a rival business group might be responsible for the abduction, what are you going to say?”

 

“You mean, another company might be using this method as leverage?”

 

“Just supposing.”

 

Yunho stared at the other man. He wasn’t exactly familiar with the extent of cruelty and ugliness possible in corporate warfare, but even to his inexperienced ears the theory sounded preposterous. He shook his head.

 

“I still think that whoever’s doing this is working alone. I’ve told you my reasons. Besides, if the motive is business-related, what’s the point of the torture?” He paused, a frown settling on his brow. “Is there any reason why you’re asking me this?”

 

Han Geng’s lips thinned into a firm line. “Come with me.”

 

 

–

 

 

“It’s the phone calls,” Han Geng declared to his audience of three.

 

Siwon knitted his brow, struggling for focus in the misty girdle which had been constantly clouding his mind for days. It made Han Geng’s voice sound like it had come from miles away.

 

“The phone calls?” he repeated, uncomprehending. Jungsoo and Inspector Jung, both seated in front of his enormous desk, didn’t seem to fare any better.

 

“The cause of the security breach,” Han Geng explained. “As you can recall, the calls from the kidnapper were made to your business phone—after which we decided to clone the phone so we would be able to record and trace the calls as soon as they came in. However, the course of action had left your number very vulnerable. Any call made to that number is no longer secure.”

 

Han Geng launched into details of how the perpetrator had managed to exploit the loophole and extract information from conversations made through the line. The disastrous launch of their new product was the result. The Gwangs knew everything about it; then distractions, disruptions, troubles, a succession of downright dirty tactics, followed.

 

Siwon felt the slow swell of frustration in his stomach. Numbed and sluggish. Completely unlike his usual reaction.

 

“So that’s how they knew about the launch.” It was Jungsoo who spoke first, his normally composed voice for once riddled with too many emotions. “Once they got the information, it was easy to sabotage the promotion.”

 

“It’s still part conjecture so far,” Han Geng admitted, “but I don’t see how else the leak could happen.”

 

“Can you make sure?” Siwon spoke up quietly. “If it’s really done the way you said it was, wouldn’t there be some kind of trail?”

 

“There _is_.” All heads turned to Inspector Jung’s direction. He was sitting upright in his chair, an almost manic glint in his dark-ringed eyes. “There must be. No matter how it’s done, they would’ve left a trail.” He looked at Han Geng. “You were saying that they’re basically listening in on every call made to that number, right?”

 

“More or less.”

 

Yunho snapped his fingers. “ _That_ ’s our opening. Set a trap and then make a call to that number. If you’re right, then they’ll be listening in, which means that they _will_ leave a digital trail. All that’s left is for us to follow it.”

 

Siwon stared, hope blazing in his chest, and seized the possibility at once. “Can you do that?”

 

“Of course,” Yunho answered firmly. A glance at Han Geng—and receiving a nod in return—confirmed the option.

 

“Do it,” Siwon commanded. Both men quickly rose and left the office.

 

It was a while before Jungsoo finally broke the silence left in the room. “If anyone can do it, it’s Han Geng’s team,” he said, his voice quietly soothing.

 

Siwon inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. “I know,” he murmured. It felt like he had been going on with repeatedly crushed hopes for so long; to allow himself to hope again was nothing short of painful.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the abduction?” Jungsoo suddenly asked.

 

Siwon offered him a faint smile. “I want at least one of us to maintain a clear head. For obvious reasons, I can’t be that person.”

 

There was another interval of silence. Then Jungsoo spoke again. “Do you trust me?”

 

“Yes,” Siwon answered without missing a beat.

 

“Then I ask you to leave this problem with the Gwangs to me. It’s all PR disaster on our side so far, but I have an idea. It might just work.”

 

Siwon stared at him in disbelief. “You can turn the table in our favour?”

 

Jungsoo shrugged. “We’ll just have to see. You know what they say. There is no such thing as bad publicity. It all comes down to how one handles the flow of information.” His expression turned dark. “You just concentrate on the abduction. Make sure that whoever does this regret it.”

 

“I will,” Siwon vowed. He was not a cruel man by nature, but there was only so much hell a man could endure before the inferno burned him beyond recognition.

 

He would destroy them.

 

 

–

 

 

There was nothing Yunho hated quite so much as waiting—and knowing that he could do nothing but that: wait.

 

Here he was, looking helplessly on as Hyoyeon prepared the trap for their eavesdropper, lines of code rapidly flowing from her fingers into the workstation. She was working together with a man from Han Geng’s team, their partnership instantenous and seamless. The silence in the control room was only broken by the sharp sounds of keyboards and their occasionally hurling jargons (understood only by tech wizards) at each other.

 

After what felt like hours, Hyoyeon finally looked up and declared, “We’re ready.”

 

Yunho glanced at Siwon, who nodded at his Vice President. Park Jungsoo made the call.

 

Siwon’s strained voice answered it in the second ring. He layed a part, but his distress was genuine, obvious to anyone with ears. Soon, they were exchanging information which Yunho was sure had no basis in truth whatsoever. He waited, air stuck in his lungs, as he watched the frown on Hyoyeon’s face and the progress of her fingers, flying over the keyboard in a rapid chase.

 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally uttered a small exclamation of triumph. “We got it, boss.” She grinned up at him, excitement evident in her low voice. “The signal’s coming from a small warehouse compound in the old pier area.”

 

Chaos followed. Han Geng assembled his team and dished instructions in rapid Mandarin. Yunho himself was busy barking orders into his phone for a SWAT squadron to meet them at the designated area.

 

He didn’t miss Siwon’s sharp glance when he ordered the squads—but Yunho ignored it.

 

Like hell if he would let these people take justice into their own hands

 

 

–

 

 

Siwon remembered the name.

 

Once upon a time, Kim Chung-Ho was the owner of a small technology company selling softwares for facial and audio recognition. He was also one of many small enterpreneurs Siwon had pushed aside on his path to greater heights.

“He lost everything,” Han Geng had said earlier in the car as they sped toward their destination. “He had a son with cancer who died soon after the bankruptcy. Then his divorced wife committed suicide a few weeks later.”

 

Han Geng’s tone was neutral, but Siwon could easily draw the conclusion left unspoken from this succession of plain facts.

 

This was his fault—and Kyuhyun paid for it.

 

“Also,” Han Geng continued after a pause, “we found that a substantial amount of money had been transferred to his bank account from one of the puppet companies owned by the Gwangs. Either he’s been selling them information or they pay him to do the abduction.”

 

“It’s not important right now,” Siwon said brusquely. “He took Kyuhyun, who is innocent. That’s all I care about.”

 

Han Geng nodded in silence.

 

It took Siwon his entire willpower to command himself to stay put and let the police do their job. Surrounded by Han Geng’s team, he remained outside the established perimeter, adrenaline and panic coursing in his veins as Inspector Jung coordinated his men for a swift surprise attack. Clearly they planned to capture Kim Chung-Ho alive.

 

Siwon knew that _he_ would have torn the man limb from limb, if he were the one who called the shots.

 

The wait felt interminable. It was a hot afternoon, but his fingers were numb and cold. Every nerve in his body was standing on end as he strained to listen for the smallest bit of noise from inside the compund.

 

Until suddenly, the sound of loud gunshots tore the silence.

 

Siwon’s mind went blank.

 

A heartbeat later, he broke into a run, sprinting toward the source of the sound. The SWAT officers were all crowding around an abandoned warehouse building. Siwon fought his way in.

 

He saw the body first, slumped lifeless on the dusty floor, wearing a brown shirt spattered with blood. His heart nearly stopped at the sight—but then he saw another figure, lying on the ground just a few feet away.

 

It was Kyuhyun, his hands and feet bound with thick plastic rope. Frightened, nearly hysterical whimpers were escaping from his gagged mouth as he tried to inch himself away from the dead man and everyone else in the room. His pitiful effort only intensified when Siwon stepped closer, ignoring the warning shouts from the officers.

 

“Kyuhyun.”

 

The call of his name stilled him. Siwon waited, heart in his throat, as seconds trickled between them. Kyuhyun stared at him with bulging, terrified eyes that showed no recognition, let alone his old pleasure at the sight of him.

 

“Kyuhyun,” Siwon repeated, softer and gentler. Very slowly, he crouched down, hand reaching out to touch the quivering shoulder.

 

Kyuhyun’s head jerked. A sound like a snarl came from behind the gag. Siwon froze, then swallowed thickly.

 

“It’s alright,” he said again. It only made the boy flinch; he even tried to distance himself away from Siwon, panic evident in the tension that gripped his entire body.

 

“Kyuhyun, please,” Siwon forced his voice to remain calm, desperation sharp in his chest. The words burned his throat, but he knew he must keep trying. “No one’s going to hurt you again. I promise. We’re going home. You’ll be safe.”

 

Realisation was slow to come, but it finally dawned, trickling in little by little like sand in an hourglass. Tears sprang in Kyuhyun’s eyes and fell down his gaunt cheeks, adding to the dried tracks on his dirty face. A faint, muffled word floated from behind the gag, one that Siwon recognised as a splinter of his name.

 

His hands were trembling as he touched Kyuhyun’s cheek, carefully removing the gag. It left a deep, red mark that made him clench his teeth. He was just about to release the bind on the wrists when Kyuhyun suddenly launched himself toward him with a loud sob.

 

Siwon gasped. Relief punched his chest like a steel fist. He had to physically stop himself from putting his arms around the boy carelessly. The wounds that littered Kyuhyun’s body—bruises and scars, old and new, bleeding and scabbing—were too many to count. His entire frame was wrecked by sobs and Siwon’s name fell from his lips again and again, in a voice roughened and mangled almost beyond recognition.

 

“It’s alright,” Siwon heard himself repeat, a tightness in his throat that threatened to burst. He focused on caressing the back of Kyuhyun’s neck, the only part that he could trust himself to touch.

 

Revenge could come later— _would_ come later. For now, he simply allowed himself to bask in the raw, painful relief that he finally had Kyuhyun safe in his arms again.

 

The rest of the world could wait.

 

_**End** _

 


End file.
